The Adventures of Arkansas Dave
by Hank's Lady
Summary: One of my older stories! Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh describes his adventures in comic fashion, including fights and chases with both the law and his pals, gambling, thieving and rolling in the hay, bereavements and injuries, finishing with a very unlikely romance with one of his new gang. Dave & Chavez
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is one I wrote maybe 6 or 7 years ago so I thought I'd bring it out of storage. The chapters are short and sweet and it's meant to be comical above all else, although there is an element of romance and slash sex. Hope it gives you a giggle at the very least. The story is written from the point of view of 'Arkansas' Dave Rudabaugh and set during and after the movie 'Young Guns II' (set in the 1870s).**

CHAPTER 1 - MY NEW GANG

My name is Dave Rudabaugh – but I prefer Arkansas Dave. I was born in Fulton County, Illinois in the Fifties and when I was young, my family moved around a lot; couldn't seem to make up their minds – Oregon, Nebraska, Kansas. I ran away when I was twelve and the less said about that, the better. Maybe I'll come back to it later if I can stomach it.

I somehow managed to survive by scrounging and thieving until I reached sixteen, gradually made my way to Arkansas and joined up with a bunch of cattle rustlers. My fellow thieves dubbed me 'Arkansas Dave' and somehow it stuck. Eventually we killed a ranch owner in a skirmish and scattered, me ending up in Dakota, robbing stagecoaches. I thought of myself as an American version of the legendary English highwayman Dick Turpin.

After about a year of that, I got sick of always riding alone and went looking for a gang, eventually, many weeks later, finding John Webb and his buddies in Las Vegas, New Mexico. We became the Dodge City Gang, spending most of our time drinking, gambling and chasing women. After a card game where one of our opponents was caught cheating, John shot him in the head and was subsequently arrested and carted off to gaol. Me and the other boys made ourselves scarce, but returned later to break John out. In the process I killed the deputy guarding the prisoners – at least I'm pretty sure it was me – then thought I better not hang around to get myself caught.

I wound up in Fort Sumner and laid low for a while, but it was difficult to do that for long. I loved attention and I wasn't getting any, so it didn't take me long to start telling everyone who would listen that I was Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh and I'd killed sixty-five men, not including Mexicans and Indians. Actually, that was a lie. That was what I told everyone because I thought it made me sound like someone to be reckoned with. The actual figure was less than fifteen altogether, but that was my secret and I was taking it to the grave.

I had been alone for about another six months when I ran into William H Bonney and Pat Garrett in a saloon. They were surrounded by the bar girls wanting to hear about the adventures of Billy the Kid and I immediately decided I wanted some of the action. Billy was famous. He was always in the papers; right where I wanted to be and despite my previous escapades, I'd never quite managed it.

I ordered a fresh bottle of whiskey from the bar and edged my way into the group. They ignored me for a while, but when I offered the bottle around, they acknowledged me and introduced themselves. I somehow hoped they'd heard of me, but when I told them my name they both stared at me blankly although they seemed quite happy for me to hang around. I spent my last few coins on a second bottle and by the end of the evening, I'd managed to worm my way into the gang with plenty of ass-kissing, which I could be quite good at when I thought it might get me something I wanted. And what I wanted now, was to be part of Billy the Kid's gang.

We rode out of Fort Sumner, drunk as lords, singing not very tunefully, Billy recounting tales of previous adventures. I don't remember the ride, but our next stopping point was San Patricio and a saloon that rented out rooms. Billy and Pat had money to get a meal, a bath and rooms for the night. My last penny had been spent on the whiskey, so I set about impressing them by persuading a woman to invite me to her table for supper and then to a room. Needless to say, she wasn't a very respectable sort, but I was probably the least fussy person I knew. I would generally screw anything that looked twice at me, particularly if there was something to gain from it, such as a free room or just some fun, and it often didn't matter what equipment they had either. It was really a wonder I hadn't caught anything, but I was so busy counting up notches on the bedpost that I didn't really think about that; I guess I was lucky.

I was luckier still on this occasion. The woman, a forty-year old-widow desperate for attention, wanted nothing more than to be thrown on the bed and ravished more than once and when I woke the next morning to find her still sleeping, I helped myself to her jewels and money before I quit the room. I found Billy and Pat downstairs eating breakfast.

"We need to get out of here," I said urgently.

"What have you done, Dave?" asked Pat.

"Nothing," I replied innocently.

"Where's that woman you were with?"

"Probably looking for her pearls," I said with a sly grin.

"Have you no shame?" Unfortunately Pat seemed to have got to know too much about me already. Billy just laughed, shoveled the last forkful of bacon into his mouth and got up.

"Come on, then, let's skin out," he said, throwing some coins on the table for the food and heading for the door. At least Billy approved of my behaviour. I told myself he was highly impressed and thought I was a great asset to his gang. At last I felt as if I'd found some pals that I would enjoy sticking with for some time to come.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2 - LYNCH MOB RESCUE

We rode together for several months, stealing cattle and horses from big landowners and selling them off, spending the proceeds on our gallivanting around, drinking and whoring and even kitting ourselves out in decent clothes to replace the rather raggedy outfits we inhabited.

On the occasions when the three of us spent our nights in whorehouses, I reinforced the opinion that I was not fussy. Billy of course took his pick, as did Pat, but I didn't care what was left as long as I got some. My bedroom activities seemed to be something I forcused on more than half of my waking life and Billy and Pat, who at least showed a modicum of restraint, taunted me for having the morals of a prairie dog. I took it as a compliment. I did have some standards – well, one. They had to be white. I'd always rather pick the well worn, slightly wrinkled, past her prime forty-year-old white whore than the Mexican girl barely out of her teens. Other than that, I really didn't care.

In addition, I prided myself on going through life having fun and not letting myself get tied down with feelings like some of them did. For instance, when we later rescued Doc Scurlock and Chavez from certain hanging (another story to be recounted shortly) I quickly came to realise that Doc was a man I would never understand.

He was a good looking boy, smart and educated and proper, who no doubt could have had anyone he wanted, but he had saddled himself with a China girl and her whole family. From what I gathered, she'd been house entertainment for Lawrence Murphy so Doc could have had his fun and walked away, but no, he had to go and marry the girl and take on fourteen siblings. When he spoke of her, he adopted this goofy, dreamy expression and went all poetic. Jesus. Like I said, he could have had anyone; even me, at least for an hour or two. I smirked. Sometimes I even wondered at myself. I found myself weighing up everyone I met in terms of whether I'd like a roll in the hay with them.

I could never work Chavez out either. He often kept pretty much to himself and the times we had called at whorehouses, the others would all be bragging about what they got up to, but Chavez said not a word. I sometimes wondered if he simply sat in the barn with the horses while we were all at it, or better yet, did it with his horse, but the time Deputy Carlyle and his men surrounded the house and we all had to stop in the middle of it and rush downstairs, Chavez emerged looking as rumpled as the rest of us, shirt undone and hair tangled, but that all happened later on.

Hendry too, who joined the gang when Pat left, was barely twenty-three and had already been married and widowed. What the hell was it with people wanting to get married? Variety was the spice of life, in my opinion.

Anyhow, forgetting about them others for the moment. There was just Billy, Pat and me when Billy made a deal with the governor to be arrested, testify against Murphy's men and then be acquitted. However, it didn't quite work out the way he hoped. Once he was locked up, they intended for him to stay that way. Being Billy, he didn't stay locked up for long though. Pretty soon he turned up again looking for Pat and me, announcing that two of his friends who used to ride with him as the Lincoln County Regulators, were in the pit in Lincoln and needed rescuing. They were to be hanged the next day so we had to get them out that night. I was all for an adventure and was delighted when Billy proposed we pose as a lynch mob with torches and everything, to get Doc and Chavez out. This was the first time he had mentioned the pair of them to me.

I frowned at the second name. Chavez? Surely Billy didn't have a Mexican for a friend? Ah well, at least there was an adventure to be had in executing their rescue. Maybe someone would finally write about me in the newspaper if I made enough of a show of myself. I was therefore less than pleased when Billy made me wear a flour sack over my head with eye holes cut in it. I'd rather people could see who they were dealing with.

We rode into Lincoln and Bob Ollinger, who was hanging around close to the pit with his sidekick, Bill, welcomed us.

"You're a bit late!" he cried, obviously expecting a lynch mob.

"Open the pit!" I instructed, delighted to have a leading role in the operation. We peered in at the bunch of cowering men. Bob reported that Billy had escaped.

"There's no Billy the Kid in there!" Billy confirmed, adopting an Irish accent. Bob immediately announced that Doc and Chavez who had ridden with Billy were there.

"Ah, shit. They'll have to do. Bring 'em up," Pat said in a stern voice.

The two men climbed out of the pit, both looking terrified. Doc was blond and wearing a suit. Chavez looked more like an Indian than a Mexican, with masses of long black hair, dark skin and dark eyes. I glowered through the eye holes in my flour sack mask, wondering what was wrong with Billy that he wanted someone like that in his gang. The pair of them climbed onto the two spare horses we had brought and we all set off, me and Billy riding up front with Doc and Chavez in the middle and Pat behind. Doc began to jabber that he had never seen Billy and was a school teacher from the city of New York. When I turned around, he looked like he was shitting his breeches at the thought of what this lynch mob might do to him. I snorted under my hood.

"I'm a school teacher from the city of New York!" repeated Billy in a screechy voice and then laughed hysterically. Billy's laugh was legendary and I immediately saw recognition on both Doc and Chavez's faces, before Billy pulled off his mask. I took mine off too in relief.

"Howdy, Doc, how are your drawers?" Billy asked Doc, sniggering.

"Nice to see you again, Billy," Doc said, looking startled.

Moments later, we ran into the real lynch mob and much galloping around and shooting followed. It all happened so fast I hardly had time to think, although I managed to make it sound like a good story when I told it later to anyone who would listen. At the time I just fired at everyone that seemed to be coming at me with a torch and hoped that somehow I might hit Chavez in the process; or if not, that someone else would. However, the five of us escaped unscathed some time later and rode out of Lincoln to safety. I was disappointed it was over, but looked forwarded to checking the newspaper the next week to see if I got a mention. We continued to ride until the sun came up and then stopped to water the horses and allow them to rest, giving ourselves time for something to eat. It was only then that I got a proper look at Billy's two friends.

Billy had shot through the chain linking Chavez's cuffs and halfbreed was now attending to one of his horse's legs as it had apparently sustained some kind of injury during the excitement. Billy then got ready to break Doc's chain. Doc was getting frustrated, though, crouching on the ground with his hands either side of a rock waiting for Billy to shoot the chain, while Billy chattered and didn't get on with it. He was talking about how he and Doc and Chavez had made a pact – pals forever. I wanted to throw up. I had pretty much forgotten the boys I'd ridden with in the past. I certainly wouldn't be confessing undying love if I ran into them in the future.

"Look, I don't care if you guys swap spittle and piss in each other's boots, I don't take to tenderfoots in my gang and I definitely don't take to no Mexicans," I said, scowling at Chavez. I had to think of some way to convince the others to get rid of him.

"It ain't your gang, Dave," Billy reminded me. I knew that well enough, he was always telling me. I just liked to think I was as important as him.

"Mexican-Indian, you son of a bitch," growled Chavez from a few yards away.

Ah – so he did have Indian blood too. Could a person be a worse combination? I hated both. One of my grandfathers had been killed at the Alamo which put paid to any regard I might have had for the Mexicans and as for Indians….they were scum and in my opinion should be hunted down like dogs and shot. The only good thing about the government was that it kept a lot of them in reservations like cattle.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I sneered. "Tell me something, Chavez, was it a Mexican whore putting it to the savages, or was it an Indian whore putting it to the whole godamned Mexican army?!" I laughed. I was great at insulting people. I always managed to come up with exactly the right words to make them lose it and here was the perfect candidate to be on the receiving end.

Typically, Chavez lost it and flew at me, half shoving, half punching me in the shoulder. The man had hands like steel and I was surprised when it actually hurt. A second later, Pat grabbed him and Billy shoved me away from him, reminding me his friends were the original Lincoln County Regulators like it was something to be in awe of.

"Yeah, was," I said, unimpressed.

"Were," corrected Doc; he was big on grammar, being a teacher and all. He then pleaded with Billy again to shoot the chain.

Finally loose, Doc threw a pocket watch to Billy announcing it would pay for the spare horse which he intended to take. Billy said the horse wasn't for sale, but Doc was welcome to his boots instead. To my surprise, Doc kicked out at Billy and then launched himself off the horse on top of him. The pair of them rolled and pummeled each other and I jumped around, cheering Billy on, aware that I probably sounded like a moron, but I did love to see a good fight. Watching a good fight was second only to being part of one. I was quickly disappointed, however, when Pat grabbed Billy and Chavez pulled Doc away, but at least Billy had dropped the watch and I managed to pick it up and slip it into my pocket without anyone noticing.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 - CHISUM'S PAYBACK

Doc intended to leave and head back to New York so we left him to it, but he soon caught up when he realised we were being chased and if he continued on his present course he would run right into our pursuers and wind up on the gallows.

We headed for Beaver Smith's place and settled in. Billy sent some of his Mexican pals off to find him an army to ride with us and the rest of us put our feet up. Pat paced about, looking suspiciously uneasy, Doc fidgeted and sighed and Chavez twirled a double-bladed knife around his hand so that it looked like it was alive. I watched for a moment, fascinated, wondering if I would even be able to manage one twirl with my knife without dropping it or cutting my fingers off. Chavez caught my eye and glared back at me. I ignored him after that. There were more interesting things going on suddenly.

One of the Mexicans turned up with Billy's army, which consisted of one man. I grinned. A farmer, Hendry William French as he was called, admitted that he hadn't ever killed a man; some use he would be. I sniggered.

Then Pat announced he wouldn't be riding with us any more. He had decided to buy Beaver's place and turn it into Garrett's place - an eating house. Billy was clearly upset that one of his precious pals was deserting him and responded with bravado.

"We don't need you, Pat!" he cried.

I shrugged. Pat was decent enough as guys go, but I wasn't about to lose any sleep over his departure. He walked out of the place and left us to it.

Then along came Tom O'Folliard, a kid still wet behind the ears. Billy apparently knew him. In fact, I vaguely remembered him myself. I'd seen him outside. He asked if I was Billy the Kid and when I told him who I was, he didn't know me. Typical. Surely Billy wasn't going to recruit this runaway city kid into our gang.

"Who the hell's this?" I asked.

"This?" Billy clapped his hand on the kid's shoulder. "This is the prince of Pensylvannia!" he announced and proceeded to stick one of his guns in the kid's hand. I doubted he'd ever seen a gun for real. In fact he was so keen to examine it he pointed it at his own nose and Billy had to turn it away from him.

I shook my head. Doc sighed heavily. Chavez muttered something Spanish or Indian or whatever the hell else he spoke and twirled his knife around some more.

And so we were a gang of six - Billy, me, Doc, Chavez, Hendry and the fourteen-year-old kid, Tom. Six seemed a pretty good number really, but I still hoped Chavez wouldn't stick around too long. Not only had I taken an instant dislike to him, but he made me uneasy too and that was something I couldn't fathom. Maybe it was the damn knife tricks. I could imagine him slicing my throat with one of his blades while I slept.

We set out the next morning for the Mexican Blackbird, the secret trail that Billy had said only he and a few others knew about. It was to take us to Old Mexico and out of reach of the law.

"What are we going to use for money?" Doc asked.

"We're going to pay a visit to our friend, Mr Chisum," Billy said with a smirk.

"Oh, no," Doc said under his breath.

"Why, who's Chisum?" I hadn't heard of him.

"He's a big cattle rancher. Owns half of New Mexico," Doc explained. "The Tunstall Company had some trouble from him more than once."

"Well, I figured he owes us," said Billy.

"How's that, _Chivato_?" asked Chavez.

"Well, I ain't taken any of his cattle in a while. He owes me for my consideration." Billy hooted with laughter.

Chavez glanced at Doc and they both sighed. I just knew this was going to be fun. Billy always had great ideas and these other two looked like they were going to be stick-in-the-muds.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" I demanded, jamming my hat onto my head. "Let's ride!"

We reached Chisum's place a couple of hours later and halted in a row a short distance from his house. Neighbourly sort that he was, he came out to greet us and Billy proceeded to tell him we needed _pesos_ to get to Mexico. He pulled out a sheet of paper and explained that he figured Chisum owed him two hundred and fifty dollars for fighting the previous year and two-fifty for leaving his stock alone.

"You can take your figures and shove them up your arrogant little ass and set fire to them!" Chisum roared. "I don't owe you a godamned thing." He went on for a while and pretty soon was joined by two of his Mexican workers. Chisum suggested the men fetch the rest of his boys. I grinned, wondering what Billy would do next. I pulled my rifle out of its holder on the horse's saddle and rested it across my thighs, just in case.

"Yoo hoo! I'll make you famous!" Billy cocked his gun as one of the Mexicans turned to go and fetch the troops. The man halted in his tracks. I wished Billy would make me famous.

"Mr Chisum, which of these boys is the fastest with an iron?" asked Billy.

"Don't you do it, Billy!" growled Chisum.

"That'd be me," the fatter Mexican said. Billy turned to the other.

"You! Drop Sam Colt! Put her down now."

The second man dropped his weapon.

"Step away," said Billy and dismounted, throwing his horse's reins to Chavez. He proceeded to take off his gunbelt and dropped it on the ground, announcing that he intended to kill one of Chisum's men for every five dollars he owed him. Then he walked off to an impossible distance.

"How's that for square?" he said to the Mexican. "Now, when I go for my gun, you start shooting, but I promise you, you will not make it." He spat in his hands and rubbed them together. I raised my own gun and covered the Mexican.

"Ready?" grinned Billy.

"Yeah, I'm ready." The man flicked the leather strap off the top of his gun holster.

"Dave…" said Billy.

Gleefully I fired, hitting the Mexican in the chest. He collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. I lowered the rifle.

"Oh, my God!" gasped Chisum, shaking his head.

"Four hundred and ninety-five," said Billy.

The second Mexican began to run for the gun on the ground.

"Hendry!" said Billy.

Hendry grabbed his rifle, but he couldn't get it loose from his saddle.

"Oh, my God!" he gasped and frantically tried for his pistol, fumbling with that too.

"Hendry!" Billy repeated.

I grinned and shook my head. What could you expect from a farmer who had never killed anyone? Billy actually looked alarmed for a second as the Mexican had almost reached the gun, but then a shot went off and he fell to the ground.

Billy turned in my direction and looked past me, his eyes wide with astonishment. I looked over my shoulder and there was Doc, lowering his rifle from his shoulder and looking just as stunned as Billy. I smirked. Maybe he wasn't such a bad sort.

"Four hundred and ninety," Billy said to Chisum.

Doc was apparently disgusted with himself, for he threw the rifle to the ground, turned his horse and galloped away. Billy picked up his gunbelt again, strapped it on and went to his horse. Moments later we were all galloping after Doc, heading for the trail to Old Mexico.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 - LOSING STREAK

The excitement didn't end there. Billy ordered a round-up of probably a hundred head of Chisum's cattle, which we then herded to the nearest small town to sell off, using some of the proceeds for a good meal, a bath, some decent whiskey and some women.

I was in my element, especially when I left the whore I'd chosen and found a card game going on in the saloon next door. I didn't know where the others were, but I didn't care. I loved poker and joined in as soon as a new game started. My luck seemed to be running out though and by the time dawn was approaching, I had gambled away my share of the money from the cattle and my horse as well. I was about to wager the rest of the gang's horses, certain if I had one more stake I would win everything back, when Billy and Doc came over.

"You damned fool, Dave!" Billy exclaimed.

"Get up!" Doc actually grabbed me by the collar and yanked me out of my seat.

"Hey, get the hell off me!" I snapped. "At least give me a chance to win my money back."

"Looks like there's not much chance of that," Billy said, indicating that he and Doc had apparently been watching for some time and only stepped in when they were at risk of losing their own horses. "Get outside and find yourself a new horse, we're skinning out."

"Well, if you give me another ten minutes I'll win my own back," I protested.

"Outside!" Billy said under his breath, pulling out one of his guns. "If you stay here, we'll leave without you."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming," I grumbled, shaking Doc off when I noticed he was still gripping my coat. I stalked out of the saloon, furious. Damnit, I never lost so badly at poker. If I'd only had time for another couple of hands, I would have won back the horse and all the money and probably gained something else too. I kept telling myself that.

Outside, Chavez and Hendry were leading the horses out of the barn and I decided to jump on mine and skin out quick before its new owner caught me, but I hadn't bargained on the four other poker players following me to stop me doing exactly that.

"Which is yours?" one of them asked.

"That one," I said grudgingly, pointing at the scruffy looking sorrel.

"Aww, you cheating bastard, you said he was a fine stallion!" another of the men shouted, pulling out his gun.

"You got debts to settle, boy, how about you pay with your blood?!" a third one said.

"Oh, shit," I muttered, grabbing for my own gun.

"You stupid bastard, Dave," Billy said, drawing his own two pistols.

"_Pendejo!_" spat Chavez, dropping the bunch of horses' reins he held and producing two knives as if my magic.

I shot one of the men, Billy shot two at once and the fourth went down with one of Chavez's blades embedded in his neck. We backed away, aware that others may soon come out of the building to discover what the commotion was and start shooting at us.

The few loose horses had begun to scatter, alarmed by the gun shots, although Hendry still held the two he had brought out - the scruffy sorrel and his own glossy bay horse. Grinning to myself, I snatched the reins of the bay, leaving the sorrel for him, vaulted into the saddle and legged the horse into a gallop, laughing. At least I had scored a decent horse, even if I did lose all my money. Unfortunately the horse didn't last long. The others caught me up quickly and when we slowed to a walk, Chavez grabbed my new mount's bridle and halted it.

"Hey, what the hell you doing, greaser?" I demanded.

"Get off the horse," Chavez said sourly.

"Go to hell."

"Get down, Dave," Billy said, glaring at me from the other side. "That's your horse." He pointed at the sorrel which Hendry was now seated on.

"The hell it is."

"You're so keen to be in my gang, you ride by my rules, and one of them is that we don't steal from each other. I seem to remember you took Doc's watch too."

Damnit, he'd noticed.

"He gave it to you and you threw it away!" I protested.

"I dropped it, there's a difference," said Billy. "Now get off the damned horse before I shoot you out of the saddle."

"Aww, it's alright, I really don't mind," Hendry put in. Everyone ignored him.

"Alright." I reluctantly jumped to the ground and walked over to the sorrel. Hendry climbed down slowly and went back to his own horse. I guessed I should have apologised to him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I never said sorry to anyone if I could possibly avoid it and I wasn't about to start now.

"The watch," Billy reminded me, still scowling.

"Uh…." I glanced back towards the town. It was one of the things I'd gambled.

The others all glared at me and then rode off without waiting for me to mount up again. I hauled myself into the saddle despondently, wondering if I'd be better off riding in the opposite direction, but I didn't want to go back to riding alone. They'd all forget about it soon enough. I followed them, but I kept a little distance between myself and them for the next day or two.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 - PLAYING WITH KNIVES

There was no more excitement for quite a while. I quickly grew irritable when nothing was going on and we hadn't seen a town for miles and miles. I had lost track of the days, but I guessed we must have been riding for a week or more. It was scorching hot during the day and chilly at night. We had to sleep out in the open, huddled in our bed rolls around a couple of camp fires. I longed for something to drink and a woman, but it looked like it was going to be some time before I got either.

A few days later we found a better place to hole up and let the horses rest for a full day and night. It was just a broken down old fort in the middle of nowhere, but at least there was some shelter. The sun had been blazing down all day for weeks, scorching the patchy grass that grew out of the dust and drying up the creeks. We were lucky to find that there was still an old well nearby and were able to haul up buckets of water for ourselves and the horses.

I took a short nap, but I was never able to sleep much during the day. I wandered about, kicking at the dust, bored. The heat was exhausting. I decided to find some shade and get out of the sun for a while. Maybe I could drift off for another hour if I tried hard enough.

The only area where the broken down walls were high enough to afford sufficient shade from the sun was already occupied by Chavez. It meant if I was going to shelter I would have to at least be within a few feet of him.

Billy and Tom were fooling about near the well and Doc was sleeping somewhere else. I couldn't see Hendry. In the end I threw myself on the ground as far from Chavez as I could get, which wasn't more than about three feet and used my bedroll as a pillow. He opened one eye and watched me warily for a few seconds, then closed it again. I simply lay and stared up at the impossibly bright blue sky, wishing to God we would find a town soon before I went crazy. It was too hot, too dusty and I wanted a woman - or a man - anything to relieve the ache. It must be two weeks now. That was a hell of a long time for me. I wished I could sleep and stop thinking.

Chavez slept. He lay flat on his back, his guns on the ground next to him. I turned my head to the side and watched him sleep, completely oblivious and unarmed. I reached down and pulled my knife out of my boot, studying it, the sun glinting off the blade. I wondered if I cut his throat whether he would open his eyes and see I'd finished him, or simply die without knowing what had happened. Afterwards there would only be two outcomes. Billy and the others would kill me, or I would ride for Old Mexico alone. Neither outcome was satisfactory. I liked being in this gang too much. I guessed I could put up with Chavez a while longer. I stuck the knife back in my boot with a sigh.

Somehow I must have eventually drifted off to sleep. I exploded out of it when a gunshot echoed through the air and a split second afterwards, Chavez woke and sat up with a startled, "Uhhhh!" He snatched up his gunbelt, pulled one of the guns out of it and began to run towards the sound as more gunshots went off. I scrambled to my feet and followed quickly, wondering who was attacking us.

It was Billy shooting a newspaper. Pat Garrett had turned Sheriff and was pictured, the article about him stating he was hunting Billy down. I wasn't surprised. No one could be trusted. Pals, my ass. Billy needed to watch his back. Billy and Hendry were still looking at the paper.

"What about me? What do they say about me?" I demanded, unable to help myself. If I'd got a mention, I didn't want to miss it.

"Nothing, Dave," Billy said sarcastically. Chavez snorted and I scowled at him. I peered closer at the paper anyway, just in case. I wasn't the world's best reader, but if it said "Dave Ruda…" I would see it. It didn't. It only talked about Pat and Billy. Disappointed, I walked away. One day the papers would write about me.

Much to my relief, we were on the trail again soon after, which was better than just waiting around. I hoped we would at least find some form of civilisation later.

It wasn't long before we came upon something, but it wasn't a town - it was a burial ground. Chavez made everyone halt at the perimeter, saying it was an Apache burial ground and that we would go around. I looked at him. I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"Chavez, why don't you go peck shit with the chickens, huh?" I sneered. "You know what they're paying for Apache bones in Silver City right now? Christ Almighty, they're making ashtrays, they're making combs, they're making knife handles. You can get fifty cents for a good Indian leg bone. It's all out there, so don't you go getting sentimental now, alright?"

Chavez reached out and gripped my arm. "You go in there, smart _gringo_, and I'll bury you there," he said menacingly. I agreed although I had no intention of backing down at all. Chavez withdrew his hand and turned his horse away.

"Let's go," he said.

Shaking my head, I urged my horse forward. I steered it towards one of the burial mounds, threw myself out of the saddle in excitement and began throwing rocks in every direction.

"Whoooo! Silver City here I come!" I cried. I had just got to the first bone. Then all hell broke loose. Chavez was galloping his horse straight at me.

"Yaahhhhhhhh!" he yelled and I turned on my knees, just in time to see him hurtling at me and launching himself from the horse's saddle. He hit me like a tornado and knocked me flat. We rolled over and I struggled to reach my gun while trying to hold him off with the other arm. A moment later Chavez backed away and stood up and I grabbed the gun out of its holster, just before he launched himself at me again, his hand gripping my wrist, smashing it on the ground to make me release the weapon. I gripped it tighter and tried to push him away. He was kneeling over me, hair trailing over my face and almost blinding me. I jerked upwards, smashing my forehead into his face and he hardly seemed to react to it. He forced my hand down against a rocky patch of ground and I let go of the gun despite my determination not to. Chavez backed off, got to his feet and whipped out the double-bladed knife.

I sprang to my feet, grinning all over my face. I loved a good fight. I would probably be repeating that on my death bed and it didn't occur to me at that moment that I didn't exactly have the upper hand. I was winded and my right wrist throbbed. I grabbed for my gun holster and found it empty. Damn, stupid mistake. I stooped and snatched the knife from my boot.

Chavez was doing that damn twirling thing with the knife and I couldn't keep my eyes off it. He must have been doing it on purpose. Everyone knows that in a fight, you hold the eyes of your opponent, but I couldn't look at his face; I kept looking at the damn knife, twirling and glinting in the sun. And he had a feather tied in his hair. Jesus, I was going to get myself killed if I kept looking at stupid things like that. I slashed out at him wildly and missed. He danced around me and I tried again. This time he retaliated and the very tip of his knife cut through my sleeve and nicked my arm. It was a tiny scratch, but he'd drawn the first blood and I stopped grinning and ground my teeth. Now I was livid. No greaser was going to get the better of me in a fight. I dropped to one knee, pretending to clutch my arm, scooped up a handful of dirt and threw it up into Chavez's face. It blinded him and he immediately covered his eyes with both hands and stumbled backwards a step.

Right beside me was an Indian leg bone that I'd dug up and I now grabbed this and lashed out with it, hitting Chavez in the mouth. I hadn't realised what a good weapon a bone would make on its own. Chavez crashed to the ground, shaking his head, his mouth bleeding and now I had the advantage, I stepped closer. He raised himself up a little bit and I drove the knife down hard. I was aiming at his chest, but he threw up his left arm at the last second to protect himself and the blade went clean through. He clenched his teeth, but never made a sound. I was stunned. He was tough. I tried to pull the knife out, but it seemed stuck.

"Shit," I muttered. Then I watched as Chavez brought his other hand up with his knife in it as if in slow motion and swiped at me. It cut me across the belly and I let go of my own knife handle and fell backwards. It hurt like hell. The area around the cut felt like it was on fire.

"Shit!" I gasped again. "Son of a bitch!" I pulled my torn shirt away from the wound and grimaced. I clenched my teeth and looked for another weapon. My gun was inches away and I grabbed it up and pulled the hammer back.

Chavez looked back at me, still apparently unfazed, my knife blade sticking through his left arm and his own knife, dripping with my blood, in his right hand. I hesitated and turned around when I heard a number of guns being cocked. What now? I looked over my shoulder.

"I don't think so, Dave," said Billy. He, Doc, Hendry and Tom were all sitting on their horses with their guns aimed at me. I turned back towards Chavez who was rising slowly to his feet. He put his own knife away and nodded almost imperceptively at the others. Then he lowered his eyes to where I was still sitting on the ground with my gun pointing at him.

"You want your knife back?" he said calmly.

"Shit," I said for the third time. Once again I was the godamned fool in the gang. I got to my feet and put my gun away. Chavez was holding his arm out with the knife handle sticking upwards, gripping his elbow with the other hand. He stared at me as I approached. I felt like something that had crawled out from under a rock and I avoided his eyes. I gripped his wrist with my right hand, grasped the knife handle and then glanced over my shoulder again at the others. They all still had their guns aimed at me. I turned back towards Chavez, tightened my hand around the knife and yanked it upwards. The only reaction from Chavez was that his face stiffened and his eyes flickered. He didn't make a sound.

"Thank you," I said reluctantly and walked off as quickly as I could without looking like I was trying to run away.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6 - FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING

We were pretty close to a narrow creek and Chavez went down to the water to clean up his arm. I kept out of the way of all the others and sat myself down in the sparse shade of a small tree. I realised I needed to be careful or the others were going to want rid of me. They probably did already. I'd done too many stupid things too close together.

In addition, I felt like a real piece of shit now. I knew this time I'd gone too far. If Billy, Doc, Hendry and Tom hadn't all turned their guns on me, I would have shot Chavez. It was bad enough that I'd rammed my knife through his arm when I'd been in the wrong to begin with, digging up the damned Apache bones. I didn't care about it, but Chavez obviously did and the others respected his feelings so I was viewed as the black sheep of the gang and I needed to rectify things right quick.

I sighed heavily and got to my feet. There was only one thing for it. I would have to do the one thing I always avoided at all costs. I slowly walked down to the creek. Chavez had finished washing his arm and was wrapping a strip of cloth around it. I grimaced at the sight of the wound before he covered it up. It was still oozing thick dark blood and must have been horribly painful. I had done that to him. I halted a few feet away from him.

He looked up briefly and then ignored me. He didn't even seem to think it worth pulling out a weapon. I licked my lips. Damnit, pulling apologies out of my mouth was harder than pulling my blade out of someone's flesh.

"I'm sorry," I said grudgingly.

"If you're going to be sorry for something afterwards, why do it in the first place?" Chavez said philosophically, still not looking at me.

I immediately felt angry again, despite my remorse, which was in fact genuine. He was right and he was tougher than me too. I knew full well if I'd had a knife run through my arm, I'd be screaming like a stuck pig. The knowledge that the other boys also knew he was better that me just made me resent him more, but the fact that they wouldn't think twice about getting rid of me made me swallow it for once.

"Yeah, you're right," I said.

Chavez lifted his head and raised one eyebrow. "Makes a change for you to admit it."

"Yeah." I nodded. I couldn't think of a single word to add to that and after another moment's hesitation, I turned around and walked back to my horse.

Soon after, we all set off again and I was glad to be on the move. I just hoped I would find some way of redeeming myself as no one wanted to talk to me. Billy and Doc were riding on ahead and Hendry and Tom trailed behind. I found myself riding alongside Chavez and I felt pretty uncomfortable. I'd never found my horse's ears so interesting in my life before. I found myself concentrating on them fiercely to save me having to look at anything else. I rode along slowly, staring at the furry chestnut ears and sulking. I was a great sulker and it was one thing I didn't like about myself. Other people who sulked annoyed the hell out of me. I would rather they just said what was on their mind. It was ironic really. I could never say what was on my own mind unless it gave me a reason to be mean to someone. About half an hour later I was startled out of my sulk by a voice.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" I jerked my head up and looked to my right. Chavez was staring at me expectantly. "Nothing," I muttered.

"You're sulking."

"The hell I am." I sighed heavily. "I'm a fool," I said under my breath.

"We already established that several times over," Chavez remarked. "What's suddenly brought you to the same conclusion?"

"The damned knife fight," I said.

"Oh, that. What are you dwelling on that for? It's in the past, isn't it?"

"Only just."

Chavez shrugged. "Get over it, it was just a fight. Your lack of respect for the dead is more of a concern."

"Like I said, I'm a fool," I said ruefully. "I won't make that mistake again."

"Good, so forget about it then, I have."

I almost smiled. I'd thought he was going to make a big deal out of it, but I obviously didn't know much about him. I knew Billy much better and I didn't doubt he would keep on needling me about my misdemeanours until he got bored.

"The others will have more important things to occupy them by tomorrow tonight," added Chavez as if he could read my mind.

"Why? What are we doing?" I asked.

"Looks like we're circling around. We should be getting to a town by tomorrow."

"A town? Jesus Christ, it's about time!" I exclaimed.

Chavez actually laughed. "Yeah, you look like you could use a bath."

"I was thinking more of a woman," I retorted.

"I would have the bath first, if I were you," he grinned.

"Go to hell," I replied, but I found myself laughing too. Christ Almighty, I was actually getting along with him. Only an hour or so before, I'd been trying to kill him. "You don't hold grudges," I commented.

"There's no point. Better to deal with something at the time and then forget it."

"You didn't do anything to deal with it," I reminded him.

"I didn't have to. You finished up feeling like a piece of shit. That's going to have more effect, don't you think?"

"Hmmm." Godamnit, he knew everything. "I'm surprised you haven't convinced Billy and Doc to get rid of me," I said then. "Not that they'd need much convincing."

"Billy needs as many men as he can get right now; at least you can shoot straight." Chavez urged his horse to trot faster and left me alone as he moved up alongside Doc.

I rode on in silence, but at least now I wasn't wishing myself somewhere else and I had something to look forward to. Civilisation!


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 - FRUSTRATION IN WHITE OAKS

It was two days before we reached White Oaks, but it was worth it. At least it looked like it was going to be. It was a nice upmarket little town and as we rode in, people hurried into their houses and closed their doors, peering at us from behind their drapes. I grinned. We must be famous.

Billy led us to a rather smart looking building, which I thought was an hotel. It turned out to be a whorehouse just like any other, with a posh front. It was run by Jane Greathouse, who Billy, Doc and Chavez already knew. Every girl in the place was a sight for sore eyes and I knew it wouldn't matter which one I ended up with; they were all pure gold. Jane handed out glasses of whiskey and I raised mine in the direction of the one blonde. Blondes were my favourite. It was going to be a great night!

Half an hour later, everyone was upstairs. About five minutes after that, when Lilly, my lovely busty blonde was taking off my shirt, I heard a loud, "Whooo!" from the landing and I grinned. Tom wasn't even fifteen. I'd been that quick too, when I was his age. Then again, it had been so long since the last time, I probably wouldn't be far behind him.

Through the wall I could hear Doc spouting poetry, for God's sake. No point getting all poetic with a whore. He seemed to have forgotten the China girl for once and had picked one of the brunettes, although it sounded like he wasn't making use of her. Across the landing the sound of bedsprings creaking and squeals of laughter came through the door. Hell, what was I fooling around for? I unfastened my trousers quickly and pushed the blonde down onto the bed.

"Billy!" Tom hammered on the door across the landing and I hesitated a moment. A door opened and I heard voices, then the door closed again. Then there was a knock on my door.

"You have to get up! Quick, Billy says to get downstairs! The law's outside!" Tom yelled, banging on each door in turn and then starting again with the first one.

"Godamnit!" I spat. I was furious. I'd been looking forward to this all day and now I was left aching and unsatisfied. I was tempted to just ignore Tom's shouts and finish before I went downstairs, but in the end I rolled off the bed, pulled my trousers back up and grabbed my shirt. I burst out of the room and almost collided with Chavez on the landing. He was rumpled, his shirt half unfastened, his hair tangled and I wondered briefly if he was as frustrated as I was. Then I heard Deputy Carlyle outside calling out some names, mine being the last, and I found myself grinning.

"He said Dave Rudabaugh of Las Vey-has!" I cried, running down the stairs with Doc and Chavez following me.

"I'm real happy for ya, Dave," Doc said sarcastically. I shrugged it off. They had heard of me!

A moment later Jane went outside to speak to the Deputy, but was immediately restrained. Deputy Carlyle shouted that he intended coming in to talk to us and if anything happened to him the citizens of White Oaks would string Jane up and burn her. Would Billy agree to those terms? We all peered out carefully to see what was going on.

"Who is this guy?" giggled Billy and cleared his throat before shouting, "Yes, sir, we agree to those terms!" He turned away from the door, sent the girls back upstairs and instructed the rest of us to look respectable. I grinned and sat down at the table. Chavez and Hendry sat by the fire, Doc took a chair by the far wall and Tom hid behind the piano. Billy sat down on a chair the other side of the table.

When Carlyle came in and asked who was the leader of the group, Billy lowered the newspaper he was pretending to read and said, "That would be me."

"Arkansas Dave," I put in.

"You are not, Dave!" exclaimed Billy.

"I am so!"

"You are not!"

"I am so!"

We sounded like a pair of school boys, which was the general idea. Carlyle clearly didn't know what to do with himself. He interrupted after a few seconds and spouted some garbage about doing things 'law way'. Billy got up and taunted him some more. Then Carlyle made a proposal.

"I understand you have an Indian in your group?"

"Yes, sir, Jose Chavez y Chavez, a Mexican Indian, how'd that be?" said Billy.

His first name was Jose? I glanced over at him, sitting by the fire and pretending to read a book while he peered suspiciously at Carlyle and Billy from beneath the brim of his hat.

"Well, that'll be just fine," said Carlyle. "If I can give this Indian to those people out there, they'll be well satisfied."

I was surprised. Was Billy really going to give his friend up to save his own skin? I took a brief look at him and then turned my attention back to Chavez - Jose. He was now eyeing Billy with a scowl and I saw him slowly and carefully place the book on the seat next to him and draw a knife from beneath his blanket. I put my hand on my gun holster, wondering if I would shoot the Deputy first, or Billy. The thought that I would shoot either of them in order to save Chavez's neck was quite alarming and I pulled my hand back and folded my arms instead.

It quickly became apparent that Billy intended doing nothing of the sort and roped me into a charade where we stripped Carlyle of his hat, coat and gun, dressed him up like an Indian with Chavez's hat and blanket on and then shoved him out the door, hollering and whooping like Indians as we did so.

Of course, Carlyle's men shot him full of holes before they realised he wasn't any of us and then quickly made a run for it before they got caught for shooting their own Deputy. We all took off immediately after. I thought about suggesting we hang on for another half hour to at least finish what we started upstairs, but Billy was already charging out of the door with the others in tow and I shut my mouth with a sigh, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the sideboard and followed.

Outside, we ran into Sheriff Pat Garrett, the damned traitor, and his posse and we scattered to the four winds. I guessed Billy didn't want to be put in a position where he would end up shooting his old friend. I wouldn't have had any qualms about doing it myself, since he'd turned on us, but I had no intention of getting myself caught by his cohorts and I turned my horse away from White Oaks and galloped into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 - DRUNK AND DESPERATE

When I eventually slowed the horse to a walk, I realised I was completely alone. Sure, we'd scattered, but I hadn't expected all of them to take off in the opposite direction to me. Still, when I thought about it I supposed I understood. Billy seemed to have warmed to me again, but the others were clearly still less than impressed with my recent antics.

I rode on slowly, beginning to feel the cold, until I eventually came to a tumbledown shack a few miles out from White Oaks. I could just make out the shape of the small building, but it was a dark night, the moon hidden behind clouds, and I didn't notice the horse standing to one side. I tied my own animal to a rotting fence post, hoping it would still be there in the morning. It snickered and stamped one foot as if it had seen or heard something that I couldn't.

"Shuddup," I muttered and pushed open the door of the shack. I immediately heard a gun being cocked. "Shit," I said. Now what?

"Who is it?" said a familiar voice. Godamnit.

"Chavez? What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded angrily. I wouldn't have been so riled if it hadn't been for my sudden and dubious desire to shoot Billy in order to help Chavez if it came to it.

"What do you think I'm doing? Same as you only I got here first. Best thing for you to do is either leave, or sit down and shut up."

Squinting in the darkness, I watched him lower the gun. I didn't fancy going back outside and trying to find somewhere else to shelter; I was already shivering from the cold. I shut up and sat down, draping the blanket from my bedroll around myself. Then I pulled out the bottle of whiskey I'd managed to grab before we had to make a run for it, uncorked it and took a few gulps. The liquid immediately began to warm me from the inside out.

"You want some?" I offered Chavez the bottle automatically.

"No, thanks."

"Fine. More for me." I made myself more comfortable on the heap of old straw which conveniently covered the floor of the shack and poured more whiskey down my neck. I didn't make any further effort to speak. My eyes gradually got used to the darkness and I found myself staring down at my crossed ankles to avoid looking at Chavez. The couple of times I did glance up, I noticed he had his arms wrapped around himself and was shivering. His coat was missing and he didn't have a blanket any more either, since Billy had put it around Deputy Carlyle before he was thrown to the wolves. I wondered briefly how long it would take for a person to freeze to death. With a sigh I got up and took the half dozen steps to the other side of the shack. Chavez immediately pulled a knife out and watched warily.

"Put that away," I grunted and sat down next to him. "Here." I shoved the bottle into his free hand. "It's good for keeping the cold out."

He looked at me, surprised, then put the knife away and gulped some of the whiskey. "Thanks." He passed me the bottle back and his hand brushed against mine. His skin was ice cold.

"Jesus, Chavez, you're frozen," I commented. I stuck the cork back in the bottle so it wouldn't spill and dragged the blanket off my shoulders. I spread it out and threw half of it over Chavez's legs, keeping the other half to myself. He glanced at me curiously, then slid down a few inches into the straw and covered himself up to the neck. After a few more minutes I did the same and then uncorked the bottle again.

"What happened to your coat?" I asked, aware that my voice was a touch slurred already.

"Left it in the room."

"Damned inconvenient time for an interruption," I remembered. We'd only been upstairs about ten minutes. My frustration wasn't forgotten and I immediately began to feel heat in my groin again. I groaned and then bit my lip.

"Get interrupted at a crucial moment?" Chavez laughed.

"What, in ten minutes? I was gonna make it last and get my money's worth," I said.

Chavez snorted. "Better to just get on with it, the law is never very far off Billy's tail."

"I suppose you had a great night then," I scowled.

"Not in ten minutes," he admitted.

"Good thing I grabbed this," I said with a grin, raising the bottle. "Drown our sorrows."

I wondered how much I would have to drink before it drowned my ardour. Usually it didn't really seem to make a lot of difference. I could down half a bottle and still get it up if I was in the mood, which was more often than not. I took another swig and passed it back to Chavez, wondering why I wasn't fantasizing about painful ways to despatch him to the spirit world.

It didn't take all that long before the whole bottle was gone. I was fuzzy-headed and my vision blurred, but I was right about one thing. It didn't kill the damned ache in my groin. I even found myself wondering if Chavez had drunk enough to not slit my throat if I put my hands on him. I swallowed that thought right quick and closed my eyes. I was going to sleep and forgetting about it.

I couldn't seem to get comfortable. The ground was hard beneath the straw and my cock was harder. It throbbed painfully under my clothes and I resisted the urge to put my hand on it with difficulty. I rolled over onto my right side, trying to find a better position to rest in and bumped against Chavez. He lay with his back to me. Predictably within a second a knife was in his hand although he didn't turn over; he just gripped it in readiness. I reached my arm over him and caught his wrist to prevent the blade coming any closer. He flinched and hissed through his teeth and I realised I'd grabbed his injured arm; the arm I'd rammed my knife through. I let go quickly, cringing with guilt, and mumbled an apology - another one.

"Put the knife down," I said for the second time. "What do you think I'm gonna do? Kill you in your sleep or something?"

He stiffened and didn't let go of the knife. "Better to always be prepared," he said.

"I don't want to fight with you, alright?" I sighed.

Fighting was the last thing on my mind right then; all I could think about was the fastest way to relieve my frustration and much as I might swear blind I hated him, he was right there and probably just as desperate as I was. My arm still rested over him and I pulled my hand back until it rested on his chest, then moved forward. I was only an inch or two away anyway. I noticed that he felt warmer than he had earlier, but not all that much. He stiffened further. I grinned to myself and ran my hand down his body to his stomach. The muscles jumped and he drew his breath in sharply again.

"What the hell are you doing, Dave?" he said. The tip of the knife appeared above his shoulder, inches from my nose and I was surprised that he didn't actually push me away.

I didn't answer. I drew my face back a couple of inches and my hand crept lower. I had been right; he was just as ready for it as I was. I squeezed and he spat something in Spanish or Navajo that I suspected was 'stop' or 'go to hell' or something similar. I ignored him and pulled his hair away from his neck with my other hand, sinking my teeth in gently below his ear, risking the knife coming closer to my eyes. I rubbed my hand over the hard bulge in his trousers and he lowered his hand back into the straw with the knife in it. I grinned to myself. I was going to have some fun after all. I forgot about the part where I'd always vowed I wouldn't touch someone unless they were white and of course the other part where I hated Chavez.

I unfastened his trousers, slid my hand inside and encountered warm flesh that felt almost like steel encased in velvet. Christ Almighty, he felt good. He let out a strangled moan and another curse and I felt him leak into my hand. My own erection throbbed and I pressed myself harder against him. I slid my right arm under his neck, bent it back at the elbow and put my hand around his throat, forcing his neck back until his head rested against my shoulder. He let go of the knife at last and groaned again, writhing under my hands, his hips jerking slightly as he thrust himself into my fist.

He didn't last very long; probably not even as long as Tom. Who'd have thought I'd get that kind of a reaction out of him? I laughed inwardly; I was enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would. I took my hands off him, but I left my arm draped over him. He was hot and panting and when I tried turning him over, he rolled onto his back without protest. His eyes were closed and it occurred to me he was completely at my mercy and unusually trusting.

I unfastened my clothes and my cock sprang free of its own accord. I reached out and took hold of Chavez's uninjured wrist and placed his hand on me. His eyes opened and I imagined he would have looked shocked if he hadn't drunk so much whiskey. At least I could hold my drink marginally better. He jerked his hand back suddenly and I thought he'd probably never had his hands on a man. I dare say he'd had them on himself though, so it wasn't like he didn't know what he was doing. I shifted closer to him and my cock bumped the back of his hand. After a moment he twisted his wrist around and gripped it hard. I was aware his hands were so strong that he could probably yank it out by the roots without much effort and the thought just added to the excitement. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it as his hand caressed me slowly and then began to speed up. His hand was a little cold and nowhere near as rough as mine; then again he wore gloves practically all the time. I panted and groaned, thrusting myself more urgently into his palm, shuddering as his thumb ran repeatedly over my tip. When it was over I opened my eyes, thinking smugly that I had lasted longer than he did. His eyes were closed and he was just inches away from me. My heart was racing and I leaned forward, then froze in alarm. No way was I going to kiss the greaser; what the hell was I thinking?

I rolled away onto my back and stared up at the roof of the shack instead. There was a hole in the battered old wood and I could see a star through it. For the first time in as long as I could remembered I felt like I would fall asleep in seconds. My breathing slowed rapidly and then I was slipping out of consciousness, hoping Chavez wouldn't suddenly decide to take his knife to me while I slept, when he sobered up and realised what we'd done.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9 - RUNNING AWAY AGAIN

When I woke the next morning I was disorientated for a moment and almost thought I was still at the whorehouse, forgetting we'd had to make a run for it. I felt warm and comfortable and I wasn't alone. I could feel the heat of my companion as they rested against my side and when I moved my arm, my hand brushed through long hair. Weren't whores supposed to kick you out afterwards? I opened one eye and saw black hair. My girl had been blonde. I opened the other eye and tried to blink away the fuzziness left by the whiskey. Shit, it was Chavez next to me.

For a moment I couldn't remember what had happened and I froze, not even breathing. My trousers were unfastened; what had I done? I wasn't sure if remembering would be a good idea, but I closed my eyes again for a moment and thought about it. We'd been drinking whiskey, complaining about the law turning up before we got laid. My eyes flew open again. Did I screw him? No, I couldn't have done, I would have remembered that, surely. I frowned and thought about it some more. We hadn't done anything more than fool around, but it had been damn good, I could remember that much. I looked at him again and raised a hand to brush his hair away from his face, but then snatched it back quickly. He would probably wake up and be horrified and I'd look like a damned idiot. I needed to get myself together. I grimaced and quietly edged away from him, sitting up slowly. I cautiously got to my feet and my boot made a slight noise on the stone beneath the straw.

I should have known that Chavez would sleep with his ears alert. He opened his eyes and his hand immediately shifted towards the knife which lay to the far side of him. Then he pulled his hand back and sat up too. He had straw in his hair and his clothes were loose, trousers undone the same way mine had been. I avoided looking at him. I felt very uncomfortable and my only saving grace was that I hadn't progressed beyond what my hands had gotten up to. I brushed straw off my own clothes and took a step backwards. Jesus, what was wrong with me? Not long ago I would have thought my standards had slipped completely to even consider him, but now there was that strange niggling thought in my head that I had liked it rather too much.

"Where are you going?" Chavez asked quietly.

"Outta here," I said through my teeth. Suddenly I couldn't wait to get away from him. He fastened his trousers and stood up. I couldn't seem to stop myself taking another brief look and my eyes met his. He had a mixture of what looked like hope and confusion on his face and for the first time he seemed unsure of himself. I wondered what he was thinking; he sure as hell didn't look as if the idea of waking up with me had horrified him all that much. He took a step towards me, dropping his eyes, giving me a half smile and I panicked and lashed out. My fist caught him in the mouth, much harder than I intended and his lip split. He fell backwards into the straw and the worst of it was that this time he didn't fight back, or even draw a weapon. He just sat there and looked up at me and I cringed inwardly. Damnit, I needed to learn some restraint in all departments.

"_Hijo de tu puta madre_," muttered Chavez then. He looked both angry and hurt and I figured what he said was some kind of insult.

I turned away before I did anything else I'd regret and marched outside. I wished he'd pulled a knife on me or something. Now I not only felt sick, but guilty too. I was feeling a lot of things that were new to me lately. I didn't even know why I'd hit him; I sure as hell regretted it a lot more than I regretted touching him. As usual, I buried my thoughts rather than dwell on them and went to my horse. It had gotten itself free from the fencepost, but had stayed close to Chavez's identical animal; identical in that they were both sorrel, but there the similarity ended. Chavez's horse was fit, muscular and glossy. I grabbed the reins of my own sorrowful looking mount and climbed on. It never even crossed my mind to steal the other horse. I paused, wondering which way to go and then headed off in the opposite direction to White Oaks. I guessed I would catch up with the others sooner or later.

After riding for most of the morning, I finally saw horses in the distance, travelling at an angle to mine which would eventually bring us together if we stayed on our present courses. I squinted against the sun, wondering if it was some of my gang. There were three of them. I pulled my rifle out just in case and continued until I made out Doc, Hendry and Tom.

"Dave," Doc greeted me reluctantly.

"Mornin', boys. Where's Billy?" I asked.

"He went after Jane," said Doc. "He'll catch us up."

"The lucky bastard!" I exclaimed, cringing when I thought I could have gone after the blonde instead of….instead of what I had got up to.

"Where's Chavez?" asked Doc then.

"How the hell should I know?"

"Just wondered if you'd seen him."

"No," I said shortly.

"Hope he's alright."

'He's fine,' I thought and then looked anxiously at the others in case I'd said it out loud. They were gazing about them.

"I think we should head north," Doc said.

"North? What the hell for? We're going to Mexico!" I protested.

"I think Billy was heading in that general direction. We'll likely run into him eventually."

Doc, Hendry and Tom all urged their horses onwards immediately and I followed them, thinking we were more likely to run into Pat Garrett going north. Ah well, we might get another fight out of it.

Half an hour further on, we halted and turned in our saddles at the sound of hooves pounding behind us. It was Chavez riding flat out to catch up. Shit. I turned back to face the other way and hoped he wouldn't give any indication that I was a liar when I'd said I hadn't seen him.

"Chavez!" cried Doc.

Chavez halted beside him and nodded. He glanced over at me and glowered.

"What happened to you? Get in a fight?" asked Doc, eyeing Chavez's split lip.

"Some _pendejo_ thought he'd try his luck," grunted Chavez.

"I'd love to know what he looks like now," Doc grinned.

"He's a dead man," Chavez replied, shooting me a look that said he would kill me if he got the chance.

Things just kept getting better and better and as usual, it was all my own fault.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10 - HATED

We rode on for the rest of the day, Doc and Chavez leading the way and talking together. Rather than be given the silent treatment again, I decided to suck up to Hendry and try to make him feel more friendly towards me.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that shit with the horse," I said.

He glanced at me. "That's alright, Dave," he replied.

I grinned. The good thing about Hendry was that he didn't have a mean bone in his body and would forgive anyone pretty much anything. With him back on side, Tom also followed suit and I rode on with my two allies, relieved that I didn't have to endure the scorn of Doc and the black hatred of Chavez all day. It was turning to dusk when we finally ran into Billy.

"Howdy, boys!" he cried. "All still alive, then?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it?" Chavez grumbled.

"Hell, what's eating you?" Billy asked, staring at him.

Chavez ignored him. In fact he ignored all of us except Doc as we found a place to camp for the night, shot some game and roasted it over a fire. I determinedly hung around Hendry and Tom like a bad smell, which luckily for me, they didn't seem to object to. In fact the pair of them seemed to appreciate the fact that I had taken such an interest in them. We sat in a little huddle at one side of the fire, sniggering about Jane's house, Hendry and me teasing Tom for being so quick off the mark that he ended up having his fun while the rest of us suffered. At that moment I happened to glance up across the flickering flames of the fire and see Chavez glaring at me from the other side of it. I was reminded once again of my activities of the previous night and I cringed, although it was his split lip which made me feel infinitely worse. It didn't look like he was going to let me forget it either, regardless of his usual philosophy of putting things in the past.

The following day, I managed to make things even worse than they already were, if that were possible. I hadn't thought I could actually sink lower than I was at that point, but somehow I managed it. I was talking to Hendry and Tom as we packed up our bedrolls and made the horses ready to ride south again. Tom had begun asking questions about Indians, of all things. Did we think if we rode through their territory, they would be lying in wait to spear us or scalp us?

"Of course not, Tom," said Hendry without much conviction.

"Nah, they're all locked up in reservations, or dead and buried. Killed a good few myself," I boasted.

"Dave…" Hendry said warningly and I realized I'd stuck my foot in my mouth.

Chavez was behind me. I could see his silhouette on the ground, the sun behind him. He had a knife in his hand. Hendry and Tom took a few steps away from me as if they thought being close to me would put them in danger too. Meanwhile, Doc and Billy came towards us. I turned around and rather than tread on eggshells, I proceeded to insert my other foot where the first one already resided.

"Where's your tribe, then, Chavez? Locked up somewhere out of the way?" I taunted.

"They're dead," Chavez said shortly.

My mouth opened, but thankfully nothing further came out of it. I felt sick and shocked and unusually nervous for me. I'd been feeling that way since I woke up with him actually and I wasn't sure why. I was even less sure about why I continued to be vile to him. I guessed that in some twisted way I thought that if I treated him the same way I had when I first met him, the strange feelings I kept having about him would go away. I shut my gaping mouth and glanced around at the others, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.

Billy and Doc stared at me in horror and disgust while Hendry and Tom just looked disbelieving. Chavez turned away and went to his horse which was tethered to a tree a short distance away, putting his knife away. I had a sense that I had made some grave error, much worse than simply putting my foot in it and again, guilt filled me without even knowing why.

"What did I say?" I asked Doc and Billy.

"Are you gonna tell him, or shall I?" Billy grunted.

"I will," said Doc. "A word." He indicated I should walk a little way from the group with him and then proceeded to tell me what had happened to Chavez's family. He had returned from trying to find food to discover his whole tribe slaughtered, his mother's body cut open with a saber, his baby sisters' heads bashed in with boot heels.

"...so the army could save bullets," Doc finished tightly. "He's never going to get over that. Don't you care about anyone's feelings, Dave?"

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

"Is that all you can say? You make me sick," Doc spat. "You either need to grow a conscience and some respect, or get the hell out of the gang. I wouldn't be surprised if Chavez cuts your throat the next time your back's turned; you deserve it." He left me and returned to the others.

I agreed with everything he said. I was disgusted with myself and I knew I was going to have to do something about putting it right. I had surprised myself recently by learning that I did actually have a conscience, but I still didn't know when to stop and now I had really hurt the one person that...well, one of the gang. I looked back towards the remains of the camp and observed that most of the boys were clearing up their things while Chavez was some distance from them, strapping his horse's saddle on. I took a deep breath and walked over to him.

"Chavez."

"Don't waste your breath saying sorry again," he growled. He didn't turn around, but continued with what he was doing.

"I wasn't going to," I said. "What's the point in doing something if you're gonna be sorry for it afterwards, right?"

"Right."

"Doc told me what happened," I said. "It must have been hell to go through that."

"Doc had no business saying anything," Chavez said. His voice shook and I felt like the world's worst piece of shit.

"Jose..." I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He spun around at once, knocking my hand away.

"Don't call me that!" he hissed. "Just go to hell!" He gave me a shove in the chest to emphasise his point, sending me staggering backwards, arms flailing in an attempt to save myself.

I regained my balance quickly, silently cursing myself when I noticed with shock that he had tears in his eyes. I was vaguely aware that I wanted to somehow comfort him and that was another completely new feeling for me. I'd never felt anything for anyone. Nothing good, anyway. But I knew there was nothing I could say or do right now that would make things any better. He had turned his back on me and continued strapping his horse's saddle on and I just stood there, not knowing what to do for the best. At last I just left him to it and went over to my own horse, aware that the others were still eyeing me with disgust and dislike. Maybe it would be better if I just left the gang. With a few stupid words I'd turned myself into a pariah and I knew that not one of the guys wanted me with them any longer. I didn't need them to hate me any more, I realised; I hated myself enough for all of them.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11 - UNEXPECTED RESCUE

We set off pretty soon, heading for the mountains. No one spoke to me and I trailed some distance behind the rest of them, hating the uncomfortable feeling of riding amidst a bunch of people who loathed me. It was two days before Hendry and Tom grudgingly exchanged a few words, but the atmosphere amongst all of us didn't improve for another week, during which time I kept my head down and made sure I didn't even breathe wrong.

I still wasn't under any illusion that I was forgiven after that time, but at least I was no longer completely ignored. Chavez, however, hadn't cast even one glance in my direction since I'd messed up so badly and I tried to ignore the annoying wish that he would speak to me, even if it was to tell me to drop dead. He hadn't looked at me or ridden near me all week and he slept as far from me as he could get when the six of us settled down each night.

I was getting impatient by the time we saw a thin line of smoke in the distance rising into the sky. We hadn't seen civilisation in far too long again and I was sick of being ignored, sick of being dirty and hungry and not having enough sleep, but for once, physical desire was the last thing on my mind. I was just miserable and I didn't know how to make it better.

The trail rose now, passing between steep hills and rocky outcrops and we eventually reached a small settlement carved out of the mountainside; some kind of mining village. Billy spoke to an old man, asking if they were mining copper. I was too far away to hear properly, but I picked up the words 'bat droppings'. Perhaps a joke would help; most of them seemed to have put my latest failings behind them at last.

"Well, I've been to gold towns, silver towns, I've even been to turquoise towns, but I have never been to a batshit town," I said to no one in particular, hoping to at least get a smile out of one or two of them. "I can't wait to see the women!"

Someone snorted behind me and I turned around, surprised to see Chavez grinning. As soon as I turned, he straightened his face and looked away. Hendry and Tom both chuckled, but I sighed heavily and looked over at Billy to see what the next plan was. It was to escape. Suddenly Pat Garrett and his men were almost on top of us, charging through the village and firing from all directions and none of us were prepared; not at all.

"Oh, shit!" I gasped, urging my horse forward. We galloped higher up the trail, the horses scrambling and lurching, leaving the small town behind. I noticed Chavez branch off to the right and disappear and wondered what he was doing until I heard a gunshot. Glancing back I saw one of Garrett's men fall from his saddle and I grinned, wishing I'd thought of doing the same thing.

I crouched forward in my saddle, taking the weight off my horse's back to help it scramble up the last section of the trail until the ground flattened out. Billy, Doc, Hendry and Tom were all galloping and I followed. Then suddenly there was no ground in front of us and the horses skidded to a halt, neighing in fright. We were on the very edge of a steep descent into a canyon. With this in front and Garrett's men behind, we were trapped.

"Godamnit!" exclaimed Billy.

"Can't we go down there?" asked Tom. The rest of us stared at him in disbelief. What was in front of us seemed like a near vertical drop and going over it was almost certain death. Staying where we were was also certain death, however, with Garrett's posse advancing on us. We all turned our heads as we heard pounding hooves, expecting to see the sheriff, but it was Chavez galloping towards us, screaming something at the top of his voice that sounded like, "_Atsay, atsay!"_

My mouth fell open as his horse sprang through the middle of our group and flew over the edge onto the steep slope below. It leaped and bounded a few strides and then fell, pitching him from the saddle. Immediately my horse decided he wanted to follow and I grabbed desperately at the horn on the saddle as I was carried down the almost sheer path. The horse fell and rolled and I was thrown clear, sliding down the dusty slope on my rear. Glancing to my right, I saw Hendry rolling and slithering beside me, his horse lurching and stumbling nearby, reins trailing.

Garrett and his men appeared at the top of what I could only think of as a cliff and began firing down at us. Chavez was already some long way down the trail, but the others, like me, were scrambling off the ground, trying to grab their horses and get back in the saddle as the gradient lessened. My sorrel stood by a clump of shrubs just yards away and I ran to it, throwing myself into the saddle and kicking it into a trot. Just a few yards and we would be around a slight bend in the path, out of range of the guns.

Then the unthinkable happened - Garrett or one of his men shot my poor old horse out from under me and I was thrown to the ground again. I guess it could have been worse, though - they could have shot me off the horse. I rolled to the side, putting some bushes between myself and the view of our pursuers, who were still at the top of the canyon and wondered whether I should wait it out, make a run for it, or shoot back at them. I looked over my shoulder to see if any of the others were still in view, but they were gone. They had left me, which I supposed was only what I deserved.

I pondered on simply hiding in the bushes in the hopes that Garrett's men wouldn't notice me and would ride away, but moments later, to my utter disbelief, Chavez appeared, galloping back towards me. He barely bothered to halt his horse, but reached out with his left arm and I grabbed at him in relief, half jumping and half being hauled up onto the horse behind him. I flung my arm around his waist and hung on tight as he turned the animal again and we catapulted back down the trail. There was no sign of the others. I was astounded that he'd come back for me. I had expected he would rather see me dead after I'd been such a bastard to him.

I didn't speak, I just held onto him as we continued to gallop through much gentler hills. Garrett's men had apparently decided not to risk their necks by following and would no doubt take a different route, which at least bought us some time. At last we caught up with the other boys who had halted and were apparently waiting for us to catch up. Chavez slowed his horse to a walk as we reached them and I loosened my hold on him, getting my breath back.

"Sweet Mary's ass, how the hell d'you get him to do that?" I gasped. "What's that mean, anyway, _Atsay, Atsay_?"

"It's an ancient Navajo word. It means stop," Chavez said enigmatically. I frowned, none the wiser and gripped him tighter as he suddenly urged the horse forward, causing me to almost lose my balance.

"Stop?" I could hear Doc echoing in a puzzled tone. I was glad it wasn't just me.

We rode on, looking for a place to hole up for the night as the sun began to sink in the sky. Tom was riding up front with Billy and suddenly they galloped off up a gentle slope, Billy shouting something about the last one to the top being a three-legged dog. I grinned. Doc and Hendry rode on a little way and then stopped to wait for Billy and Tom to come back. Chavez halted his horse and I looked up at the hill, watching as Billy and Tom disappeared from view.

I still had a smile on my face and I realised I was rather enjoying sharing Chavez's horse. I tightened my arm around him before I realised what I was doing and he twisted his head around sharply. His cheek bumped against my nose and I pulled my head back.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked.

I was ready to come up with some stupid retort until I saw he didn't look angry and for once I held my tongue and said nothing at all. A breeze blew his hair into my face and I raised my free hand and brushed it aside, tucking it behind his ear, then replaced my arm around his waist just a little tighter than necessary. Dare I to hope he might actually have forgiven me for what I said?

"Why'd you come back for me?" I asked after a moment, unable to maintain my silence.

"I'd have come back for any of the gang," Chavez said shortly.

I froze suddenly as a gunshot rang out and Chavez stiffened, looking up into the hills.

"Probably Billy fooling around," he said, but he didn't sound convinced.

I clutched my own wrist in front of him to ensure a more secure grip, suspecting we may suddenly move quickly. It was mere seconds before Billy appeared, galloping flat out down the hill, Tom's loose horse following him.

"Skin out!" he yelled as he flew past us. The loose animal trotted into our path as Chavez turned his horse to follow Billy.

"Get hold of it," he said and I grabbed for its trailing reins. Then we flew after the others, me hanging onto Chavez for dear life with one arm and hoping the other horse wouldn't suddenly decide to stop and make me fall.

"Where's Tommy?" Doc yelled after Billy as we pounded back across the scrubland, heading north-west.

"Dead," Billy said almost under his breath, but even with the wind in our faces and the thundering of the horses' hooves, we all heard what he said.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12 - NO TURNING BACK

We stopped running when we thought we were far enough away from Garrett's posse to set up camp. There were only a couple of hours of daylight left and we guessed our pursuers would rest up too. We came upon a broken down old barn and decided to make it our camp.

No one talked. I was thinking about Tom and I guessed the others were too. He had just made his fifteenth birthday a few days ago and now he was shot and killed. Doc lit a fire and sat warming his hands over it. Billy paced around muttering to himself. Hendry sat in silence close to the horses. Chavez walked off a short distance and sat down cross-legged. I went to sit near the fire opposite Doc. He glanced at me and said nothing. A few minutes later we both looked up as Chavez started singing.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Mourning. It's Navajo. He'll cut his hair too," Doc said.

I watched and when he stopped singing, he pulled out a knife and cut a lock of his hair off. Then he got up and went to his horse. I stood up.

"Leave him alone, he won't appreciate you bothering him with your shit," Doc snapped at me. I ignored him and walked over to Chavez. By the time I reached him, he had mounted his horse.

"You alright?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Where you going?"

Chavez shrugged. "I just want to get away from them for a while."

"What about me?" I asked.

"What about you?"

"You wanna get away from me too or do you want some company?"

He shrugged again. "I don't really care either way." He turned the horse away and rode slowly out of the camp. I quickly went to my own horse and sprang into the saddle. He hadn't said no after all.

"Where the hell are you going?" Billy demanded suddenly. I ignored him and urged the horse forwards. "Dave!" I left him behind and caught Chavez up some yards ahead.

It was growing dark and the horses plodded along side by side. Chavez didn't say anything and nor did I, but for once I wasn't in the wrong and didn't feel uncomfortable about being ignored.

We stopped after a while, tethered and unsaddled the horses and lit another fire. There were a few trees and scrubby undergrowth offering shelter and we spread out our bedrolls and sprawled close to the heat, still not exchanging a single word. Chavez lay on his front, propped up on his elbows, staring into the fire and I lay on my side, my hat half tilted down over my eyes, watching him. The flickering flames were reflected in his eyes.

I rose slightly to throw a few more twigs onto the fire. Chavez looked up at me and I threw myself into exactly the situation I had been determined to avoid. I was thinking with my cock as usual and I reached out, rolled him onto his back and leaned over him as I began to unfasten his shirt. No lead up, no conversation, I just grabbed him. He stiffened for a moment and lifted his hand to push me off. If he had shoved me away, I would have come to my senses, but he didn't. Instead he took my hat off and put it to one side. Then we were tearing at each other's clothes in an effort to get them off as fast as possible.

I briefly thought that I should get control of myself before I went too far like I always did with anything, but I couldn't stop myself. I expected a punch or a knife between my ribs, but I didn't get either. He wanted it as much as I did and wrapped himself around me. After everything that had happened, I was surprised that he would respond like that and surprised at myself that I wanted it so much.

I broke another one of my stupid little rules. As I was looking down at him, my hand between us rubbing his cock, I dropped my head forward and kissed him. It wasn't just a peck either; I poured myself into it as if I meant to devour him. He clutched at me, his response heated and I stopped thinking about whether I might regret it later and simply lost myself in it. I ground myself against him, pushing my erection alongside his and stroking us together. Chavez squirmed and bucked beneath me, his hands clutching at my back as he came hard, coating my hand and my cock, his breath leaving him in harsh gasps. I stopped moving even though I ached and throbbed with need; I wanted more than this. It had been way too long since I actually screwed someone; so long that I couldn't even remember it. I pushed his legs apart with my knees and reached down, pressing one finger into him, using his own fluid to ease the way. His eyes flew open and he stiffened.

"What are you doing?"

"Come on, you want it as much as I do." I forced a second finger in. He was tight as hell and hot...Christ, I wouldn't last a minute, I thought. He flinched and groaned in discomfort.

"Don't."

I stopped and withdrew my fingers reluctantly and his face took on a look of a surprise.

"Why'd you stop?"

"You said 'don't'." Disappointed, I rolled off him onto my side and he turned to face me.

"You don't usually do what people want."

"Yeah, well..." I half shrugged and avoided his eyes, unwilling to explain myself.

"Have you done this before? With boys?"

"Yeah."

He edged closer to me and my erection prodded his belly. Damnit, my balls ached and I was desperate to empty them. His hand grasped me suddenly in a firm grip and began to stroke and I let out a sigh of relief. I closed my eyes and thrust myself firmly into his palm, wishing to God I was pushing it into his body. I was so damned ready for it. I groaned loudly and he laughed softly and cupped my balls in the other hand, squeezing and caressing.

"Christ Almighty," I muttered. I opened my eyes and glanced down, watching his dark hands on my pale cock in the dim light. He was hard again too; I could feel his tip nudging my balls every so often. He grasped himself and did the same thing I had, rubbing us against each other.

"Hell, Chavez," I groaned. I was so desperate for release, but it was just a little out of reach. "Please..." I cringed at the sound of myself begging, but his response surprised me.

"You can do it if you want."

"Why'd you change your mind?"

"I don't know; desperation?"

I grinned and pushed his hands off, spat into my palm and slicked the saliva onto my throbbing shaft. It was probably going to hurt like hell without oil or something, but there wasn't much I could do about that right now. We rolled over and I held myself above him, guiding myself, shoving my hips forward. He moaned in pain and I vaguely thought that he hadn't made a sound when I cut him, but I carried on, burying myself in his heat. He was shuddering and panting, blunt nails digging into my back, none of it from pleasure. His cock had softened and he was tense and unresponsive as I began to move. I almost stopped again; he wasn't enjoying it and was clearly suffering, but after another minute or so he began to move with me and his body relaxed, thrusting up against mine, his cock rising again. He slid one hand between us and began to stroke himself and I picked up speed, plunging deeper and feeling my balls tighten, heat coiling in my belly as I reached completion.

"Jesus Christ!" I cried as I emptied into him and his hand began to move faster, chasing his own release. Ordinarily I would have stopped as soon as I finished, but I kept moving, willing myself to stay hard until he spurted onto my stomach and went limp beneath me, trembling and panting. I stopped moving and pulled out quickly, turning onto my back and grabbing one of the blankets to cover us, gasping for breath. It had been damned good and for once I felt truly satisfied.

As my breathing slowed and I lay on my back next to him, staring up at the stars, I wondered where I was going. This wasn't me, getting close to someone; or at least it wasn't what I used to be. Maybe I'd changed. Maybe that was a good thing. Or maybe the afterglow had just fried my brain. I closed my eyes with a smile on my face and slept.

When I woke, I felt completely different to that other time. Instead of horror and rage I felt a mixture of excitement and slight panic, but even that was exciting. I expected to feel the warmth of Chavez beside me, but I was cold and I reached my hand out for him. It came to rest on the dusty ground and my eyes opened quickly.

"Chavez?" I sat up and looked around.

My new glossy dark bay horse stood alone a few feet away. Chavez was gone. It was as if he had never been there. I threw my blanket off and grimaced when I realised my clothes were scattered around on the ground and I hadn't got a stitch on. Shivering, I gathered everything up and dressed, concentrating fiercely on the simple task and trying to ignore the feeling of being punched in the stomach.

Where was he? Did he regret it? Did he wake up and wonder what the hell he was doing with someone he hated so much? But if he hated me, why did he come back for me on the mountain?

"Get hold of yourself," I muttered to myself. "_Pendejo."_

I picked up my bedroll, mounted the horse and began to ride slowly back in the direction we had come the night before. I tried not to think too much, but with no one to talk to and nothing going on, it was impossible not to. I didn't exactly feel comfortable with my thoughts at the moment, though.

What the hell had I been thinking last night? Couldn't I have kept my hands off? I never went back for seconds with anyone and now I'd made things a hundred times worse with him than they ever were before by screwing him. I wanted to turn around and ride off in the opposite direction. I didn't get close to people, I didn't come back for more, certainly not with a guy; certainly not with...Jose.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked the horse. "Why can't I walk away from this?"

I shook myself and rode on. I could already see the camp in the distance ahead and I steadied the horse to a slow amble, not wanting to get there. I didn't want to arrive and find that Chavez loathed me just as much as before. When I arrived, I jumped to the ground and Doc and Hendry approached at once.

"Where's Chavez?" Doc asked me.

"I don't know," I said. My breath seemed to be sucked out of me. He hadn't come back to them?

"What the hell have you done now?" Billy demanded, appearing behind me.

"What? Nothing!" I cried.

"What have you done to Chavez, Dave?" said Doc.

"I haven't done anything to him!" I protested. 'Well, not what you think, anyway,' I thought.

"So where is he, then? You rode off together."

"He….disappeared," I said lamely.

"That's horseshit!" exclaimed Doc. They both advanced towards me and I took a couple of steps backwards.

"Look, I haven't killed him, or injured him, or upset him or anything else, I swear!" I cried. "We kind of ….uh…called a truce. I fell asleep, I woke up and he was gone."

They both looked at me sceptically

"Why would he do that, huh, Dave?" Billy said.

"How the hell should I know?" I gazed around me, hoping that Chavez would suddenly materialise out of nowhere. To my intense surprise and relief, I could see a galloping horse in the distance, heading in our direction. I was sure it was him. "Look! There!" I pointed and the others turned around. "There he is."

Billy and Doc glared at me again and then waited for Chavez to reach us. His horse almost skidded to a halt in front of us and he stayed in the saddle.

"Garrett's coming this way!" he panted. "We have to get out of here!"


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13 - KISS AND TELL

We rode fast that day to put some distance between ourselves and Garrett again. He was too close on our tails for comfort and our only choice was to run and hope to make the border before his army caught up with us. We could see Mexico from the hilltops now and we knew we'd make it the following morning if we kept up our current pace. Looking back the way we had come from the higher ground, we continued to see the dust rising from our pursuers' for some hours, but eventually there were no further signs of them and it seemed they had stopped to rest.

We carried on for a few miles before we stopped to let the horses rest up. We came upon another of the many long-abandoned old buildings scattered around New Mexico and used this for shelter. Some of its walls were still intact and afforded areas of shelter for ourselves and the horses. It was late afternoon and still hot, the sun blazing down. Everyone was exhausted.

Billy, Hendry and Doc all sprawled out inside the three still standing walls of the building out of sight. Every so often one of them would emerge and prowl around looking for signs of Garrett catching us up, but all was quiet. Chavez was attending to his horse and I took up a position under a large tree a few yards from the building and watched him. He took better care of the animal than the rest of us did with ours, I mused. I wondered what he was thinking. We had barely acknowledged each other all day and a number of times I had almost made an attempt to talk to him, but failed to think of a subject to raise. I felt jumpy and nervous, unable to gauge whether he regretted what we did or not. Did I regret it, I wondered? I remembered how he felt under me, his hands on me, his tight heat gripping me. My cock twitched slightly and I grimaced and adjusted my clothes.

He turned away from his horse and glanced around him, his eyes landing on me. I was tempted to call him to me, but reluctant to draw the attention of the others. Instead I just raised an eyebrow as I stared back at him. He gave me a small smile and strolled over to the tree, stretching out beside me with one arm folded behind his head and his eyes closed. He didn't speak and pretty soon he slept, but the fact that he would rather join me than the others made me relax and I tried not to question myself. As usual I didn't sleep. I just lay there with one hand resting over the handle of my knife which was tucked under my leg, just in case. Strange really; knives weren't my weapon of choice; I always preferred a gun.

I picked up the knife and studied it, getting a strong feeling of deja vu. Not so long ago I had been contemplating cutting Chavez's throat as he slept. I knew I would never do it now and I put the knife away. I didn't hate him any more. In fact I wondered if I ever had. I'd been full of resentment because he was better than me at everything and I'd been loath to admit it to myself. He was a better horseman, a better shot, better with a knife and he was tougher than anyone I'd ever met. I'd let my hatred of both Mexicans and Indians tar him with the same brush until I'd gotten to know him a little. No, I didn't hate him. I had feelings for him and they certainly weren't hatred. I didn't like to think too much about what they might be instead. I glanced over at him again. His extra senses that alerted him to other presences when he was asleep didn't seem to be working. I was surprised; he was normally at least partly alert to the threat of our enemies. He must be completely exhausted.

I dozed off eventually and when I next opened my eyes the sun was setting and it was cooler. Chavez was still asleep. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at him. He didn't stir and I studied his face, long dark lashes curving up slightly, lips parted as he breathed slowly and steadily. I couldn't stop thinking about what we had done the night before and I felt my face warm as I remembered again how much I enjoyed it. I wasn't even thinking when I dropped my head lower and kissed him; it was just automatic. I brushed my lips lightly over his and then pulled back and held my breath, thinking I probably shouldn't have done it. His eyes opened slowly and looked up into mine.

"What the hell are you doing?" he said huskily.

"Nothing." I rolled away and sat up, wishing I could disappear. I definitely shouldn't have done it.

To my surprise, Chavez didn't respond with anything sarcastic. He sat up slowly and turned to face me, then dropped his head forward onto my shoulder. I hesitated and then lifted my hand and rested it on the back of his neck. I stroked his hair and we just sat there for a moment. My heart slammed against my ribs and I wondered if he could hear it. My hand slid to the side of his neck under his hair and I felt his rapid pulse. It occurred to me that if one of the others were to emerge from the broken down building at that moment, we were the first thing they would see, but it didn't seem important.

"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you," I whispered.

"Forget it." Chavez pulled his head away and straightened up, meeting my eyes again. "What happened to you in the past, Dave?" he asked.

I was startled and didn't know quite how to respond. "What?" I said. "What do you mean?"

"No one is born without a heart and soul," said Chavez. "You seem to hate everyone and everything."

"I don't," I protested, my already racing heart speeding up nervously. "I know I've been a real bastard to you, but mostly I just talk a lot of shit and don't think about what I'm saying."

"It's more than that," said Chavez. "So why? Why don't you care about anything?"

"Well…uh…it's p-pretty pointless caring about anything…n-nothing is permanent," I stuttered. Godamnit, how did he know? I snatched my hand away from where it still rested on his shoulder and gripped my crossed ankles instead so he wouldn't see how I was shaking. Christ Almighty; I didn't want to go there.

"That's horseshit," said Chavez. "Why don't you tell me the truth now?"

"It's not important," I said.

"Isn't it? So you're just going to go through the rest of your life alone, dwelling on it rather than get through it and be happy?"

"I am happy," I grunted.

"If you're happy, then I'm a white-eye."

"Alright, you asked for it." Damn him, I was going to spill it all out and make myself look like a fool. I licked my dry lips, wondering whether to just blurt it out or try and make it sound less than it was.

"I was just a kid," I said, focusing my eyes intently on the hole in one of my boots. "Eleven years old. My Pa had been dead a couple of years and my Ma took up with a useless son of a bitch without even a horse to his name. Both of them were desperate for attention I suppose – from what I could see they had nothing much in common. She wasn't enough for him, though and he decided I was to provide some of his entertainment. If it wasn't that, then he was beating me black and blue just because he could. My Ma did nothing to stop it – she figured while he was interested in me, he'd hang around." I swallowed, feeling like I might throw up. I'd buried it so long that now I was forced to think about it again, talk about it, it left a nasty taste in my mouth. "He was the first man I killed, soon as I learned how to use a gun." I cleared my throat. "So...when you said 'don't', that's why I stopped. I might be a lot of things, but I don't force myself on anybody like he did."

"I'm so sorry," Chavez groaned. I glanced up at his horrified face.

"You don't say sorry, remember?" I said bitterly. He ignored me.

"Would I be right in thinking, then, that because the two people who are supposed to take care of you treated you like that, you decided you'd never get close to anyone else?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Dave…." His hand came to rest on my arm and squeezed.

"Leave it." I pulled away and got to my feet. I didn't want to talk about it any more, all this emotional shit. I'd already said far too much and I was aware that I wanted him to care and feel sorry. I tried to tell myself it was the last thing I should be wanting and I walked away from him, attempting not to keep reminding myself that it was me who had started it by kissing him and why had I done that? Because I cared too.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 – LOSS OF THE POET

I paced around, my hands shoved into my pockets, kicking at the dusty ground. What the hell had made me tell Chavez all that shit? He probably thought I was a complete fool. Surprisingly, though, I did feel as if a big black ball of something nasty inside me had suddenly dissolved. People always said talking about stuff made it better and I never believed it. I'd always kept that shit well buried, but maybe I'd been wrong. I knew I could trust Chavez with it; he would never speak of it to anyone else and somehow it made me feel stronger.

I wandered around a little longer and then made my way towards the building. It was starting to feel somewhat chilly, a sharp breeze blowing over the hills. When I ducked through the crumbled old doorway into the largest sheltered area, all of the others were sitting in there, Chavez having gone to join them when I walked away from him. Doc was feeding twigs into a struggling fire, Hendry and Chavez sitting on the ground leaning against the wall, Billy on a rickety old chair. I sat down in the opposite corner to Doc and avoided looking at everyone.

It was only moments before Doc and Billy began to fight. Billy revealed that the Mexican Blackbird was in fact the name used for a half-black, half-Mexican whore and that the trail didn't exist. He had no intention of going to Mexico where he would end up just another gringo that no one knew.

Doc leapt to his feet, rifle in hands. "You rode a fifteen-year-old boy straight into his grave and the rest of us straight to hell!" he declared. I stared up at him, as did the others. "You are not a God!" he shouted at Billy, pointing the gun at him.

"Why don't you pull the trigger and find out?" Billy asked calmly.

Doc backed down after a minute and said he was leaving. I was a bit disappointed. Doc could be quite amusing when he was pissed, but he was more concerned about getting home to his little China girl and their baby than attacking Billy. He grabbed his things and stepped out of the doorway.

The air seemed to shake with the sound of the gunshot and Doc staggered back in, a huge hole in his middle, blood oozing from his mouth. The rest of us all leaped to our feet in horror, grabbing shotguns and pistols. Chavez went to Doc as he collapsed on his back and began ripping up pieces of blanket to soak up his blood. It was obvious that he had minutes left only. I joined Billy at the doorway, firing repeatedly back at Garrett's men, who had sneaked up on us and were now taking cover behind various rocks outside.

'I should have seen them,' I thought to myself. 'I was out there and I saw nothing. I could have stopped this.'

Suddenly Billy began telling me to lead everyone out since it was my gang. Lead them out to certain death. It didn't surprise me; I knew he didn't give two hoots about me.

"It's not my gang, it's your gang, it's always been your gang!" I protested. The number of times he had reminded me of that fact and now he decided he wanted to give me the title of leader to save his skin.

Billy jabbed the barrel of his pistol into my chest. "Don't cross me, Dave," he said grimly.

We were interrupted by Doc, on his feet now and supported by Chavez, a gun in one hand. He appeared to be keeping on his feet only by willpower and at that moment I felt admiration for him.

"Let's finish the game," he said, blood dribbling down his chin. Billy looked back at him, then pulled the gun away from me and put it into Doc's hand. Doc then proceeded to prove himself a hero by walking outside to his death, firing both guns to give the rest of us cover. Billy leaned against the edge of the doorway, firing past Doc.

Chavez, Hendry and I all ducked outside one after the other and ran around the back of the building to find cover in the rocks and bushes as far from Garrett's posse as we could get. Some of them shot wildly at us and Chavez turned at the last moment and shot one of them as he ran into the open to try and catch us before we got out of sight. I ran to my horse, hauled myself into the saddle and blew another man away as he emerged from his cover and took a few steps towards the building where Billy still hid.

Hendry grabbed his horse then and mounted quickly. As far as I could tell he hadn't shot anyone so far and I doubted he had it in him. Bullets were peppering the ground around us and miraculously not hitting either us or our horses, but I knew it was only a matter of time before one or both of us bought it.

I couldn't see Chavez anywhere and I didn't know if he was alive or dead. My heart felt like it wanted to stop beating and I felt complete panic engulfing me, which was something else new to me. Fear for someone else was worse than anything else I'd experienced and I decided the only thing for it was to get out of there as fast as possible and put it all behind me. I couldn't handle feeling like that and I yelled at Hendry to follow me, urging my horse further from the gunfire.

"Chavez is back there!" cried Hendry, hesitating.

"Hendry, you've gotta forget about him, he's buzzard meat, they all are, it's just you and me now," I said. "Come on!" I couldn't quite believe the words were coming out of my mouth. It was what I would have said weeks ago, or even days ago. Running away was the only thing I seemed to know how to do properly.

I turned my horse and pushed it into a gallop, knowing yet again I was doing the wrong thing. When I looked over my shoulder, Hendry wasn't following. He began to trot in the other direction, looking for Chavez. When a gunshot rang out seconds later, Hendry tumbled from his saddle and I cursed under my breath, hauled on the reins and halted my own horse.

What the hell was I doing? Running off like a coward, leaving the only friend who had ever shown any loyalty to me at the mercy of the sheriff and his soldiers. Someone I found myself caring about, godamnit. I was running because I was scared. Not of the fight - maybe I'd get shot and die, maybe I wouldn't, it didn't matter. It was my feelings I was scared of. They were drowning me and I had no idea how to deal with them. For the first time in my life - not counting when I was a kid and at the mercy of my Ma's man - I felt vulnerable. I'd told Chavez something that nobody else knew, opened myself up in a way I'd never thought I would and... I sucked my breath in hard as the next thought came to me. Somehow I had lost my tenuous grip on what I thought mattered and fallen. Whether he would still be there to catch me was another matter.

"Shit!" I muttered. "Son of a bitch!"

I wheeled the horse around and began to race back the way I had come, praying to a God I hadn't spoken to in a dozen years that I wouldn't be too late.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15 – ANOTHER FIRST TIME

Up ahead I saw Chavez throw himself into a gully, a soldier riding in his direction. Chavez suddenly jumped up, grabbed the horse and unsettled it, causing the animal to fall onto its side, ditching its rider. He sprang into the saddle as the horse scrambled up, but the soldier on the ground raised his gun and fired. The horse collapsed to its knees. There was another shot and Chavez yelled in pain, rolling clear of the dying animal. I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach and for a second I thought I may throw up. How bad was he shot? I reached them seconds later and the first thing I did was put a bullet in the soldier's head and then a couple in his body for good measure. Then I slid off the horse and went to Chavez. He was on his feet now, leaning against a large boulder clutching his side, blood seeping through his fingers. I took another look around to make sure there were no more men about to shoot us, then turned back to him.

"Let me see that," I said.

"It's fine, leave it," Chavez said through his teeth. I ignored him and grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from the wound. The blood was oozing rather than running. I pulled his shirt loose and rolled it up. The wound was at a slight angle just above his waist and I noticed an exit hole, a little bigger, a couple of inches away from the first.

"It's gone right through," I said in relief. "You'll be alright." I turned back to the horse which was carrying a bed roll and saddle bags, searching through them until I came upon a clean shirt. Tearing it, I made pads to cover the wounds and tied them in place around Chavez's waist. He groaned when I pulled them tight and closed his eyes for a second. His legs buckled and his head dropped forward.

"Hey!" I caught hold of him and held him upright. He opened his eyes slowly after a moment, looking puzzled, his face grey and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Come on, let's get out of here." I helped him onto the horse and he slumped weakly in the saddle. I climbed up behind, slid my arm around him on the opposite side to the wound and gripped the horse's reins. Chavez leaned back until he rested against my chest and closed his eyes again.

I hesitated for a couple of minutes, wondering which direction to take. The border was close, but I thought it better to head for some kind of settlement on the New Mexico side to get Chavez's wound tended to properly. At least I had a rough idea where to find civilization.

Garrett and his men were still surrounding the fort, Billy being the only one left inside. I knew they wouldn't kill him – they wanted to try him in court and hang him. There was no point going back; I would only get myself and Chavez captured as well, or killed. I turned the horse west and we set off slowly. No one came after us.

"Where are we going?" Chavez asked after a few minutes.

"To find some place to get your wound cleaned up," I said. "Maybe rest up for the night."

"We heading west?"

"Yeah."

"There's a saloon about ten miles on in the valley," Chavez told me.

"How's it feel?" I asked, meaning the wound.

"I've had worse."

We rode on in silence. Chavez continued to rest his weight on me, his head rolling back against my shoulder. I'd never worried about anyone before, but I worried now. I was concerned that the gunshot might be worse than it looked, that he might be losing more blood, and I knew he was crushed over the deaths of Doc and Hendry too. However, when we finally reached the small, dusty town in the valley, he straightened up suddenly.

"You alright?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I halted the horse in front of the rough looking saloon, jumped down and tied it to the hitching post. Chavez slid to the ground more carefully, clutching his side with one hand. We went in and spoke to the owner who was leaning on the bar drinking his own whiskey. He shouted for his wife and she ushered Chavez through the back to clean him up and put on a fresh bandage. Meanwhile I went back to the horse and took it around to the stables, then returned to the bar and ordered myself a drink.

Chavez appeared a few minutes later looking exhausted and miserable. He paused at the bar, helped himself to my whiskey and drained it in one gulp.

"You want another?" I asked. He shook his head.

"I'm gonna get some food too," I said.

"I'm not hungry." He left me at the bar and went to a small table in a dark corner where he sat down alone. I ordered myself a meal and another drink and then went to find a place to sit. I left Chavez alone and sat in another corner. It was obvious he didn't want company.

Much to my surprise, as I was finishing my food less than an hour later, Billy arrived. He glanced around the room and came over to me.

"Howdy, Dave," he said as if nothing had happened.

"You got away?" I said.

"Of course I got away," he said, sitting down. "Garrett and his gang are no match for me. They'll be looking for me before long, though, I expect. I'll tell you about it later. Let's liven this place up a little first; where are all the girls?"

I pointed to a group of giggling Mexican girls at the other end of the room. They were whispering to each other and pointing at us. Billy got up and went over to them and I saw him pulling money out of his pocket and handing it around. Moments later one of the girls came to me and another went to Chavez. Billy took a third and found somewhere to sit, drawing the girl down onto his lap and squeezing her until she squealed.

I found I couldn't concentrate on my girl. She was nice enough, I supposed. I suddenly seemed to have got over my dislike of Mexicans and she was a pretty thing, but all I could think about was that the last thing Chavez probably wanted was a whore disturbing him. I kept glancing over at him and noticed her leaning across the table whispering to him. She reached out and stroked her hand up and down his arm and he pulled back, dropping his head into his hand. A moment later the girl got up and came over to me. She said something in Spanish to her friend at my side and then perched on the spare stool across the table and looked at me. She put some coins on the table and pushed them towards me. I briefly wondered why she hadn't gone to Billy, but he was already pretty occupied with his girl.

"Your friend, he very sad, I no take his money," the girl said.

I turned again and looked over at the corner where Chavez sat with his head in his hands, hair trailing over the table. Then I looked back at the girls, an idea popping into my head.

"Do you rent rooms here? I mean just the room, for the night?"

"_Si_," one of them said. "For whole night, same price as one hour with girl."

"Is there one free?" I asked.

"_Si_."

I pushed the money back across the table towards her. "Will you get me the key, please?"

She nodded, took the money and went over to the bar. She was back in a moment with a key.

"Second room on right upstairs," she told me.

"You two girls busy?" I asked them both and they shook their heads.

"You play poker?" I had an idea for some fun, which could be achieved with just the few coins I had left in my pocket.

"_Si, Senor_!" they both replied.

"One minute." I got up and walked over to Chavez. He didn't even notice me and I sat down opposite him. He turned his head away from me and a tear dripped onto the table. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn't quite dare in such a public place. Instead I put the key on the table and slid it towards him.

"Here, it's the second room on the right upstairs," I said. "It's paid for until tomorrow. No one will bother you."

He turned to look at me in surprise, quickly brushing a hand across his eyes.

"Thanks," he said softly, picking up the key. Then he got up and walked out of the bar. I went back to my table and the two whores, feeling unusually happy. It was the first time I'd ever done something for another person without expecting anything in return and I was amazed at how good it felt. It dawned on me that I was the most selfish person I knew and it was about time I made another change. I needed to be somebody that Chavez might want to continue to be around.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16 - GOODBYE

I outlined my idea for poker with a difference to the two girls and they readily agreed to it. If they won a hand, I would give them a coin. If I won, they would have to remove an article of clothing. Giggling, they nodded eagerly and I pulled out a well worn pack of cards.

Not long after the game started, I noticed Billy and his girl disappear, no doubt for an hour of fun. Shrugging, I concentrated on the game. After the first round, each girl had removed a garter and placed them on the table in front of me. I dealt again and on we played.

It was getting late and I had handed over my last few coins, but the girls were down to their underclothes, giggling and squealing. Reluctantly I gathered up the cards, pointing out I had no more money left to cover future losses. The two of them whispered together in Spanish for a moment and then looked back at me.

"We play for kisses," one said.

"I don't kiss," I said. I didn't kiss whores and I often avoided kissing women or men that I fooled around with too. I'd always felt it was too much intimacy for me. There was only one person I wanted to kiss and I hoped he would feel the same when he had begun to heal.

The girls both pouted in disappointment, but we were interrupted at that moment by the saloon owner shouting at them that new customers awaited their attention. Somewhat unenthusiastically, they gathered up their clothes and winnings and left me alone. I sat for a while, wondering what to do with myself for the rest of the night. It was after midnight and I had no money left to get myself a room. While I was thinking about it, I must have fallen asleep where I sat and I woke with my head on the table to the sound of a gun being cocked in my ear. I opened one eye. It was daylight.

"What the hell are you doing, Dave?" Billy grinned, sitting down at the table. "You been here all night?"

"Mmm." I sat up slowly, rubbing my stiff neck. "Must have fallen asleep."

"Well, wake up, we're skinning out," Billy said. "We're going to Canada."

"Canada? What the hell…?" I rubbed my eyes in an effort to wake up properly and focused on him. "We're practically at the Mexican border."

"I changed my mind. Like I said, no one will know us there."

"No one will know us in Canada either," I said.

"Maybe not, but it'll be an adventure getting there!" he exclaimed.

"You're crazy," I said. "Why ride thousands of miles, getting shot at by every sheriff and his army along the way when we can be safe in Mexico in about two hours?"

"Mexico won't be so safe," Billy said. "You know they behead outlaws if they catch 'em?"

"Chavez is half Mexican, he must know people there who would help us," I said.

"He wasn't born in Mexico, you idiot," Billy scoffed. "His father was a Mexican immigrant working on a fruit farm this side of the border. Chavez barely knew him, he left when he was a little kid. Where is he, anyway? I didn't think either of you had enough money for the whole night."

"He just took the room," I said. "He's injured."

"Badly?" Billy frowned.

"No, bullet went right through and it's not in a bad place, I don't think. He wanted to get away from everyone and he's upset over Doc and Hendry. Considering you and them were supposedly pals forever, you don't seem too concerned yourself."

Billy sighed heavily. "Of course I'm upset. It's my fault Doc's gone, and Hendry and Tom too. The law wouldn't have been after them if they hadn't been chasing me."

"Don't tell me that's your conscience talking," I said.

"Believe it or not, I do have one, I just keep it hidden."

Chavez appeared then, walking a little stiffly although he didn't appear to be suffering that much. He looked serious, but less miserable than the day before. He came over to us and sat down on the spare chair next to me.

"You alright?" I asked at once. Billy stared at me.

"Concern for someone else, Dave?" he taunted. "Not sick, are you?"

"Go to hell," I muttered.

"I'm alright," said Chavez.

I glanced at him and noticed the left side of his hair was missing another chunk, guessing he had cut some off for Doc and Hendry. I willed him to turn and look at me, but he kept his head down, staring at the table.

"Time we got moving, before the law catches up to us again," Billy said, shoving his chair back suddenly. "Come on, boys."

We followed him outside to retrieve the horses, discovering that Billy had managed to bring an extra animal back with him which Chavez took charge of. A few minutes later we were heading out of the settlement towards the hills. We kept our eyes and ears open, but as yet there was no sign of the army coming to look for us.

"Looks like we'll get over the border before they get close enough to see us," Chavez said.

"We're not going to Mexico; we're going to Canada," Billy told him.

"Canada? What the hell for?" exclaimed Chavez, which was more or less exactly what I had said.

"It'll be an adventure." Billy laughed loudly.

"Sure it'll be an adventure, we'd all be dead before the end of the day," said Chavez. "I'm going to Mexico."

"Then you're on your own, pal," Billy said, riding on ahead suddenly as the path narrowed between some rocky areas. I raised my eyebrows. He hadn't shown much remorse about Doc and he didn't seem to care about Chavez either.

Now Chavez followed him and I brought up the rear. It was some time before the trail opened out again in a place affording a view north over New Mexico and south to the border. In the distance on the north side we could see a group of perhaps twenty riders circling around the base of the hills, heading towards the small town we had just left. They weren't so far behind us after all and we needed to make a move before they closed in again.

"Better wait here until they're out of sight in the town," Billy said, jumping down from his horse. He then wandered off into the bushes, not giving either myself or Chavez a chance to argue about Canada.

Chavez dismounted too and walked around to the south side of the outcrop. There was a flat ledge, perhaps four or five feet wide with a sheer drop in front and a low cliff behind. He stood on the edge of the drop, gazing towards Old Mexico. I went to join him and rested my back against the wall. Chavez didn't turn around, but he knew I was there. He said nothing for several moments. I didn't speak either. I just leaned there and looked towards the border the same as he was doing. Eventually he spoke without turning around, his voice sounding sad.

"I guess this is goodbye."


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17 - HEART AND SOUL

Goodbye? I didn't speak for a moment. I had no intention of saying goodbye if I could avoid it. The thought horrified me and my stomach turned over at the idea of riding away in the opposite direction to him; never seeing him again; never touching him again. My chest hurt and I gasped for breath for a moment, wondering how my feelings could provoke a physical reaction.

I'd gone through life never being very certain of anything important, but I was certain of what I felt right then. I licked my dry lips. I'd be kicking myself for the rest of my life if I just left with Billy and didn't find out if I what I felt was something real; if it was returned. I'd never gotten close to anyone, not once. Had all my torturing myself with stupid thoughts been a waste? I'd had what I thought were hints of him feeling something, but what was it exactly? Annoyance and pity most likely, but did he really care? My palms sweated and I wiped them on my trousers.

"Depends on you, doesn't it?" I grunted.

"You're going to Canada," Chavez pointed out. He remained standing with his back to me, staring south. I was relieved that he wasn't looking at me.

"Did I say that?"

"You didn't have to. You go where Billy goes."

I took a deep breath and prepared to say something I had never said before and doubted I ever would again. If I got shot down, I'd just run to Canada and try to forget what an idiot I made of myself. If I didn't say it, I'd always wonder and curse myself for being a coward. At least he couldn't see my nervousness, which I imagined was obvious.

"I'm not going to Canada," I said. "I...um...I..." I paused and cleared my throat awkwardly. "I want to be where you are. I...um...love you." The last few words came out as little more than a whisper.

There was a long silence and I closed my eyes for a second, wondering if I should have kept my mouth shut after all. My guts clenched and I could feel heat flooding my face and spreading down my neck. Damnit, he was going to laugh, or tell me to go to hell.

"Big words, Dave." Chavez turned around slowly, his eyes glittering. "You sure you can handle the consequences of saying them?"

"Depends what they are," I said, feeling relief wash over me and not a little excitement.

"Getting stuck with me?" The left corner of his mouth twitched upwards slightly.

I tried not to grin. He didn't throw it back in my face. I was going to Mexico. My tongue started flapping again of its own accord.

"No one is born without a heart and soul; do you remember saying that to me?" I asked. He nodded. "I never hated you," I continued. "I tried to; you know I kept going on about how I hated people who weren't...you know..." Damnit, I was making such a mess of this.

"White?" Chavez prompted.

"Mmm. Anyway, I guess I was more jealous than anything; you're always so damned good at everything and I was mad because you made me feel something when I was determined to make it to the grave without ever having to use my heart. Somewhere along the way I realised how important you are to me." I grimaced. "Godamnit, I sound like Doc and his corny poetry. Can't you tell me to shut the hell up?"

Chavez smiled. "I'm not gonna do that, I waited long enough for you to get started."

I decided it was time I shut myself up. I reached out and pulled him against me, sliding my arms around his waist and turning a little so his back was to the wall. Then I kissed him. A few gentle brushes of my lips over his and then after a moment I plunged my tongue into his mouth, feeling him melt in my arms. How could this be happening, I wondered? After the things I'd said to him and the way I'd behaved, still he would give me this chance? Still he felt enough for me not to reject me? All of this rushed through my mind as I devoured his mouth and held him tight, reminding myself not to press too hard on the side where he'd been shot. His tongue slid over mine, his lips crushing mine against my teeth, a soft moan leaving him as I ran my hand up his back and into his hair.

I had never felt the way I felt at that moment; a whole range of feelings flooded through me - relief, excitement, nervousness, lust, love - and for the first time I didn't want to run away from it. I did slow things down, however, as my cock began to fill. We needed to get over the border and find some place safe first, not to mention the fact that Billy wasn't too far away. Closer that I realised, in fact. I drew back, but hovered, then leaned in again to give Chavez - Jose, I thought with a grin - one last kiss, but it was one too many.

"Christ Almighty, what the hell are you two doing?" cried Billy.

We jumped apart and I turned to look at him. His face was a picture. Shocked and disgusted didn't even begin to describe it.

"Uh….you're a man of the world, you must have an idea," I grunted. I raised my hand and tilted my hat forward so that I could hide my eyes under the brim. I hadn't really made an effort to keep it a secret that I sometimes rode with the opposition, for want of a better way to put it, but I didn't like being caught out making it obvious.

"Not the same world as you, by the look of it. Think I preferred it when you were trying to kill each other," Billy said, pulling a face. "What's wrong with you? Aren't there enough girls in New Mexico or something?"

"Just forget it, _Chivato_, you won't ever understand it so there's no point trying to explain," said Chavez calmly.

"Yeah. Right. You know if you get caught they'll be quicker to hang you than if you walked into the courthouse and shot the judge."

"Better not get caught, then," I said with a grin.

"Dave, you're outside in broad daylight," Billy pointed out.

"And who else is around other than you and a coupla horses?"

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not see, thank you very much. Thankfully you're not both gonna be riding with me."

I glanced at Chavez and then back at Billy.

"I'm going to Mexico," I said.

"You said you were riding with me." Billy looked surprised.

"I didn't, you assumed. I just didn't argue." I hadn't wanted to burn my bridges. I hadn't been completely sure Chavez wouldn't throw my words back in my face, in which case I would have been off to Canada so fast that Billy would have had trouble to catch me up. "I'm going with Chavez," I added firmly.

Billy shrugged. "Fair enough. Surprised at you, though. You won't get your name in the newspaper if you disappear amongst the gringos."

"I don't really care." It had been the last thing on my mind, I realised. What did it matter if people talked about me, or wrote about me? That had just been one of my rather more juvenile desires before I knew there was a chance for me to have something real in my life. All it would likely do now was get me killed and at last I had a reason to want to live as long as possible.

"I guess I'll have to find me a new gang then," Billy said. "Maybe I'll turn up again one day, if Garrett don't catch me first."

There didn't seem to be much more to say. Chavez and I both shook hands with Billy and wished each other good luck. Moments later he was galloping off to the north, leaving us standing there. We looked at each other and neither of us said a word. We turned to our horses, mounted up, made our way down from the hills and began to ride slowly south. In two hours, we'd be over the border.

"You sure about this?" Chavez asked once more. He carried on looking straight ahead.

"You want rid of me, you're gonna have to shoot me," I grinned.

Chavez glanced over at me, his eyes sparkling and a crooked smile on his face; then he looked forwards again.

"_Te amo_," he said quietly.

"What?"

He dug his heels into his horse's flanks and took off at a gallop, leaving me in the dust. I smiled. I kind of knew what it meant, but damnit, I was going to have to learn Spanish right quick. I flicked my horse with the ends of the reins and took off after him.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18 - NEW BEGINNING

Both of us were quiet for most of the day. Chavez seemed to have a permanent smile on his face, but at the same time he kept his head down or averted and didn't speak to me. In turn, I had no clue what to say to him except to ask how he was feeling once or twice, to which he nodded and said the discomfort was bearable. He seemed uncharacteristically shy and this made me awkward and tongue-tied. In just those few minutes before we left Billy behind, things had shifted dramatically between us and it almost seemed as if we didn't know each other.

We had crossed the border a little way back and then stopped at the first available water source to let the horses rest and drink. Chavez slid a touch clumsily out of the saddle, clutching his side, and unhooked his water bottle from the saddle to drink the last of the contents and refill it. I jumped down from my horse and went to him.

"Do you know this area at all? I mean, Billy said you weren't born here, but..."

"No, I've never been this side of the border. There's a town a few miles ahead though. I figured we'd find somewhere to rest up for the night and go on tomorrow."

"How do you know there's a town?" I frowned.

"Smoke." He pointed and I immediately noticed a thin line of grey rising into the blue sky in the distance.

"I'm not too observant sometimes," I muttered ruefully.

"I noticed."

"Jose...do you mind if I call you that?" I could feel myself reddening again. Damnit, this was all so new to me.

"It's my name," he smiled.

"Yeah. Look, I don't want things to be awkward, but since..."

"I don't know how to behave any more," he said with a sigh.

"Nor do I really."

"What do you want from me, Dave?"

"I guess...I just want to be with you."

"As what?" He bit his lip and looked down.

"Friends? More than that sometimes. Um..."

He grinned in apparent relief. "That sounds good to me."

"Come here." I took my hat off and placed it on the horn of his horse's saddle. He stepped closer and I raised my hand to touch his face. His skin was smooth and soft and his eyes half closed as I traced his cheekbone with my fingers and then slid my hand around his neck beneath his hair, leaning in to kiss him. It was just us now and our arms crept around each other, holding tight as our lips caressed. I didn't deepen it, but drew my head back after a minute. "What are we gonna do about tonight? I want to be with you, but...if we stay in a saloon or something..."

"I have an idea. Let's just find a place first. I really need a bath and to change this bandage again."

I nodded and a little while later we mounted the horses again and rode on. Things seemed easier now and we talked as we rode, wondering how far Billy would make it before he was caught; bemoaning the loss of the rest of the gang. I hadn't really been able to relate to them that much, but I had seen some things I liked in each of them and I found I had positive things to say, contrary to my usual careless insults. Eventually a small town came into sight and we rode in slowly, looking around us for potential accommodation. There was a saloon and eating house which looked like a possibility and we tethered the horses out front and went inside.

Chavez spoke in Spanish to the bartender and I listened, barely able to make out anything other than 'si' and 'no' and 'pesos'. At last he turned to me with a scowl.

"There's only one free room," he said and raised one eyebrow slightly. Unusually for me, I caught on immediately.

"What the hell? I guess we better find some place else," I grumbled.

"Wait, Senors..." It appeared the man could speak English and we both looked at him. "Please...I need money. I give free meal and whiskey if you stay. Just pay for room."

"Damnit, Chavez, I'm not sharing a room with you!" I exclaimed.

"Well, what choice do we have? I need to take care of this." He pulled his shirt up to reveal the bandage.

"Alright...I guess it'll have to do." I gave a long-suffering sigh and Chavez tossed some coins onto the bar.

"Gracias, Senors! Maria!" The man turned away as a woman who could have been his wife appeared. He spoke in rapid Spanish and she vanished again.

"She's bringing us a meal," Chavez said for my benefit and we took a seat at the one small table in the corner. Pretty soon two plates of rice and some kind of meat in gravy arrived along with a large jug of beer and two glasses of whiskey. While we ate, we observed the guy appearing and reappearing with two buckets in his hands, heavy footsteps charging up and down the stairs.

"What's he doing?" I wondered.

"I asked for a bath too," he grinned.

After the meal, we headed up to the room. I suggested Chavez use the iron tub first and left him to it while I went out in the hopes that I might find some kind of store, not that I had more than a handful of small coins to spend. I was in luck; there was a tiny general store just yards away which seemed to sell a whole jumble of things all crammed into a very small space and much cheaper than I expected. I poked around, looking for two things in particular, but the most important one - bandages - was nowhere to be seen. I had no hope of communicating what I wanted to the old Mexican man sitting in the corner and instead I picked up three shirts from a pile - two to wear and one to tear into strips. I had seen some small bottles of oil which was the other item I sought and I waited until the old man was looking at the pipe he was attempting to light and then slipped one into my pocket. I had just enough money for the shirts and I rolled them up and headed back to the saloon.

Chavez was out of the tub and wearing only his trousers, dabbing at the slightly oozing wounds with the towel that had been provided with the bath. I set about tearing up one of the shirts and bandaged him as efficiently as I could manage, then stripped off quickly and sank into the tub of tepid water. It was better than nothing - at least I came out cleaner than I went in.

By the time I finished with the bath, both of us were yawning and I eyed my none too clean clothes reluctantly, not wanting to put them back on before I got in the comfortable looking bed.

"Which side do you want?" I asked awkwardly.

"I need to lie on my left side, so...this one." He sat on the right side of the bed and unfastened his trousers again. Naked, I dived into the other side, feeling ridiculously nervous. It wasn't as if we were going to do anything; I was too worried about his wound. I lay rigid, holding my breath for a moment as he slid under the covers and stretched out with his back to me.

"I thought you wanted to be with me," he whispered a moment later.

"I don't want to hurt you; you're not healed up."

"I won't break. You can get closer."

I moved towards him, my heart hammering, until my chest came into contact with his back. I brushed his hair away from his neck and eventually slid my arm around him and relaxed. I was surprised at how good it felt, just holding him and I pressed my face into his hair and breathed in the somewhat rare smell of soap. I fell asleep breathing it and when I woke, neither of us had moved a muscle.

It was early morning and I was achingly hard, my erection pressing into the crack of Chavez's butt. My arm rested loosely around his waist and I could feel his cock nudging my wrist. I moved my hand and captured it, giving it a few firm tugs until he groaned aloud and then I froze.

"Sshh!" I hissed.

"Sorry. I'll be quiet."

I resumed stroking, gyrating my hips slightly and biting my lip to suppress my own sounds of pleasure as I rubbed against him.

"Christ Almighty, I want you so bad," I murmured into his ear.

"What are you waiting for? I'm alright, I just can't move too much."

Excitement filled me and I drew away from him for a moment, scrambling across the bed to find my trousers and the small bottle of oil in the pocket.

"Dave, what are you doing?" Chavez whispered.

"I got something to make this easier. I don't want it to hurt you like last time."

He lay still, glancing over his shoulder at me as I opened the bottle and dribbled oil onto my fingers, coating them liberally. Then I reached down and felt around for his hole with one finger, finding the tightly puckered area and stroking around it in circles. Chavez shuddered and turned his face away, pressing it into the pillow. Carefully I pushed the tip of my finger against him and felt it slip smoothly into his heat, prompting a soft grunt to issue from him.

I remembered the first time we did this; how I had shoved two fingers into him, followed not too soon after by my cock, lubricated only with spit and I cringed with guilt. He must have been sore for days afterwards. This was the first time I'd ever really wanted my partner to enjoy what I was doing and I ignored my own arousal, exploring him slowly, turning my finger this way and that until he had loosened up a little, then hesitantly adding a second.

"Is this alright?" I whispered.

"Yeah."

"Let me know if it hurts."

"Mmm."

I stretched him slowly, while my cock throbbed impatiently and Chavez's arm began to move under the covers, touching himself while I prepared him. I was pushing both fingers deeper now, curling them this way and that and suddenly he arched back against me, his head almost hitting my nose as he let out a deep groan and something that sounded like a curse in Spanish.

"Sshh! You have to be quiet!" I breathed in his ear.

"I'm going to...lose it," he panted.

"Then stop touching yourself." I withdrew my fingers slowly and reached over him, prying his hand off his swollen cock. He groaned again in protest and I slid my free arm under his neck, covering his mouth with my hand to smother the sounds he was continuing to make. I grabbed for the oil again with the other hand and awkwardly tipped some into my palm, put the bottle down and then slicked it onto my cock. The only way I could think of to do it without putting pressure on his right side was in the position we were already lying in.

"Lift your leg up," I whispered.

He raised his right knee, propping it up and giving me better access to him and I shifted slightly, guiding myself to his entrance. I was shaking with the effort of the awkward position and from spending so long preparing him that my balls felt as if they might explode from the pressure. As tempted as I was to simply shove myself into him, I inched in carefully, pausing every so often to make it easier for him to take my length. I removed my hand from his mouth and slid my other arm around him, grasping his erection as I began to move slowly, shallow thrusts to avoid jarring him too much and losing control too fast. He felt incredible - hot, tight, slippery - and this time it wasn't a case of us falling upon each other in desperation and lack of options. I loved him, wanted him; he had told me he felt the same; nothing that I'd ever experienced could compare to it and when I spurted into him minutes later, it was him hushing me as I cursed and groaned into his neck, my body trembling, my hand slowing its movement as he emptied into my palm.

"Hell, Dave, they'll have heard that for sure," he whispered and then laughed quietly.

"I couldn't help it. You feel so good." I was still inside him and I tried not to move and slip out. "I never knew it could be like this."

"Me neither."

"I love you, Jose," I said for the second time, much more confidently than before.

"I love you too."

We lay together for a while longer, then reluctantly drew apart and got up to clean ourselves and dress. We considered asking for breakfast when we headed down to the main part of the saloon, but the look of revulsion on the owner's face indicated that he had a good idea of what we'd been up to and we departed quickly instead. There would be another town soon enough where we could get food and maybe some more clothes. It didn't really matter; wherever we ended up next, at least we would be together.


	19. Chapter 19

EPILOGUE

Now, don't go thinking this ends up like some mushy love story, because it's not like that. Me and Chavez are both guys and we're always going to love women. We continued to spend our time chasing them - although we were a lot more careful about the ones we picked, especially me - when we weren't stealing cattle or horses to pay our way, hiding out or fleeing from angry Mexicans wanting to shoot us. We were marginally safer than we had been in the north, but only because we were both a better shot and smarter than most of the men after us. The law couldn't follow us over the border and the Mexican law - I guess they just didn't care enough. So much for them beheading outlaws. Still, we didn't actually kill anyone in Mexico so that was perhaps our saving grace.

What we had between us; well, more than anything we were pals. I had to laugh at the irony of it. Billy had said he and Doc and Chavez made a pact - pals forever. I'd laughed and scoffed and here I was now with Chavez in exactly the same situation; pals forever. But unlike Billy, I knew I would never leave him unless I was in a pine box.

There was more to it than that, of course there was. When we were on the run or traveling between towns, we were always going to have each other when we felt lonely or simply wanted to relieve the tension. I loved him and I knew he loved me. We developed this incredible empathy for each other and when we were alone together, the physical side of things was like nothing else, although we did our best not to do it too often where we could be overheard. Out in the wilds, where we so often were, there were only animals around to hear us and we could be as loud as we liked.

One way or another we were always going to be there for each other and the situation seemed to suit both of us down to the ground. I realised I was happy for the first time in my life and each time I looked at Jose, it was obvious to me that he was too. We were the most unlikely match, but somehow it worked out and I couldn't imagine that changing any time soon.


End file.
